The First Prophecy
by Loxodonta-Magica
Summary: Snape finds out about another prophecy as he sets out to learn more about Muggles. Harry becomes more to him than just a Hogwarts student. Beta'd by Somgliana to Ch. 24, and then logicalquirk. Abuse and violence in later chapters. Snape as mentor no slash
1. Chapter 1

Summer School 

Chapter 1

Snape in a Snit

Severus Snape strode quickly through the halls of Hogwarts, glaring at any student who happened to catch his eye. He would've flooed to the Headmasters office, but after the day he'd had, the long walk was both needed to clear his head and also provide any chance of unleashing his temper before he sat down with his elder. As he passed a dark niche, his keen hearing heard the giggles and whispers of a passionate couple. Abruptly, he wheeled about and lit the space with a bright –"_Lumos!_" And then,

"100 points from each of your houses-" he roared, " –for your abominable lack of discretion within these halls, as well as your choice of partner!"

The couple in question reacted with high-pitched shrieks; even the boy. Before Snape resumed his long stride, he felt satisfaction in the fact that the girl fainted dead away, and instead of catching her, the boy simply watched as she keeled over and cracked her head against a suit of armor, taking it down with her. In his wake, Snape heard the clank and clatter of the armor pieces scattering across the stone floor. Many running footsteps promised that others would quickly arrive to further humiliate the couple. A brief moment of cheer brightened Snapes eyes. _"Imbecilic teenagers…deserve what they get if they're bloody well bent on infantile behavior…"_

He arrived at the gargoyle entrance to the headmaster's office. Rolling his eyes, he uttered the password that felt anything but sweet to him, "Pop rocks!"

The gargoyle staircase opened and began turning, but he did not wait for the ride, fairly leaping up the steps to the landing. He rapped on the door, impatiently waiting for permission to enter.

"Come in, Severus, come in!" Snape flung himself into an armchair and glowered at the headmaster, as he bustled about conjuring up tea and sandwiches. Once the older man had seated himself, Snape lost no time in jumping up and pacing the length of the office. His robes billowed around him with each turn across the room. "Severus…you seem to be a bit…upset…"

"I am _furious_, Albus!" Albus merely poured the tea as he watched the younger man attempt to get a grip on his emotions. He knew this man well. His observation was only to provide the man an opportunity to start saying what was currently on his mind. From experience, Albus knew that this verbal outlet would serve to diffuse some of the raw emotions so that the man before him could begin to see the problem more objectively. Albus waited patiently for him to start his tirade. Finally, Snape sat down in a cloud of black cloth and leaned forward, his hands on his knees as he addressed the headmaster.

"I just do not know how much _longer_ you expect me to put up with the kind of students Hogwarts has seen fit to admit this year. I realize that we are supposed to be enlightened about there being no difference in pureblood, half-bloods, and muggleborns, Albus…but some of these muggleborns are _truly_ trying my patience. Do you know that even _now_, after almost a _whole_ year of school, that there are still some who cannot even tell the difference between bottled versus fresh bubotuber pus? And even then they will gag until their partner drops it into the caldron for them…and _then_ they still insist on stirring only clockwise, and can't understand why their concoction goes wrong when they _tap_ the rod against the side of the cauldron instead of simply letting the excess drop into the brew of it's own accord…and if one more of them _sticks their fingers_ into the cauldron to taste it before it's done, I _swear_, I will let them lose their hand just to teach them _a bloody lesson!" _His chest was heaving for breath. He looked into the twinkling eyes of his mentor, reading there the amusement at his display of temper. With a loud exhalation, Snape sank back into the chair. His voice was quieter when he continued. "Really, Albus…they are a danger to themselves and the other students. At least that is true in my classroom. You know how exacting potions are…there is really no margin for the kind of errors I am forced to accept."

Albus watched the Potions Master for a few minutes before he responded. "Are you afraid for your students, Severus, or are you afraid for your reputation as Potions Master?"

"What kind of question is _that_!" Snape stood up quickly again, to pace as he spoke. "Afraid for _my reputation_! Didn't you just hear me say they were a danger to themselves and others? I don't care about my reputation as Potions Master! I do care whether or not I have to listen to _Pomfrey_ complain about the daily accidents she has to clean up, after the little urchins damage a body part. That woman thinks _she_ can tell me how to do my job better and does she ever think that perhaps the student might be at fault in these accidents? _Noooo,_ she has to rant about how I am purposely letting them injure themselves just to get them out of the classroom! As if _that_ does anything to help. It only gets them more behind in their work and more afraid to even attempt following clear instructions as to the proper way of brewing!" Once again, he was almost panting after he finished his tirade. He made another pass across the room and then threw himself back into the chair. With his elbows on his knees, he covered his face with his hands, shaking his head. When he looked up at Albus again, he sighed. "I am sorry, Albus. I shouldn't have gone this long without venting my frustration. It's just that I am frustrated with teaching students who lack the background to understand the dangers inherent in the laboratory." He paused. " I had thought that the new course in Muggle Studies would help smooth the way for them. But the more muggleborns we admit, it just seems to get worse."

Albus gazed at him in thought. "Well, the Muggle Studies curriculum was really to give the wizard born students an idea of the muggle world…not the other way around." He steepled his fingers against the bridge of his nose. "You do have a point though, Severus. There is much more of a handicap in the knowledge that the muggleborns have of the

wizard world, when they arrive here." He stood up and walked slowly across the room with his hands behind his back. "Perhaps the time is ripe for us to consider adding a wizard world orientation course for those who come from muggle families." He continued his thoughtful walk for another moment. "Yes. That is precisely what we must do." He stopped and stared at Snape.

Snape let a relieved exhalation of air relax his shoulders as he nodded in agreement.

Albus continued. "Of course, to plan it properly, we must first have a better understanding of the world the muggleborns come from." Snape nodded in agreement. "We know that there are differences, but have we ever troubled ourselves to see what their world is really like, those of us who have not often set foot in it?" Snape shook his head. "Yes, we must research this subject extensively, if we are to get it right." He stopped and stared at Snape again, a mischievous glint barely surfacing, though it went unnoticed by the Potions Master. "It will require a master spy to infiltrate muggle society successfully and glean the information that would allow us to most help our students." Too late, Snape saw the direction of the headmasters' thoughts and began to shake his head, even as the headmaster continued. "A spy who would be able to conceal what he really is and yet discover what he really needs to know. Someone with experience, I believe."

"No." Snape continued to shake his head vigorously and rose up to his full height to tower over Albus. "Do not ask this of me, Albus. There are others far more suited for this…this endeavor. And what will happen when the Dark Lord calls me? I cannot be both a spy for you in that, and another for- _A triple agent_?" He stopped and stared at Albus for a long moment. "No. I will not do it."

"On the contrary, my dear Severus. You _are_ the best and the most experienced for this endeavor. Especially as you believe that the necessary information is of the utmost importance to the art of potion making." He held the other mans' gaze, not intimidated by the blazing blackness in their depths. "This summer, you will become a Hogwarts spy in the muggle world. As for Voldemort calling you…we will have to make certain you convince him that you are unavoidably tied up in doing my bidding, and that you cannot risk yourself to be thought a true Death Eater by the Order of the Phoenix. He will not want to lose his spy."

Snape glared daggers at the older man while the blue eyes remained steadfast and calm as Albus stared back. With a voice that was low, filled with his customary coldness, he asked, "And precisely what do you expect me to tell him when he asks what it is I am doing for you? He _will_ want to know, and if he discovers I am studying muggles, he will bend it to his own nefarious purposes."

The headmaster slowly paced the room, his hands behind his back. Silence stretched out while he remained lost in thought. Finally, he looked back up and spoke softly, "Perhaps we should think on this for a bit. We most certainly would not want him to be aware of what you are doing. You are correct that he would use the information to further his own agenda of muggle torture and murder."

Snape watched him carefully. He could see, even without using the mental connection he shared with Albus, that the decision to follow through with this was made. What remained was to decide and plan for the difficulties this decision would cause in other areas of Snape's life. Being a double agent had suited Snapes' personality. He had an inborn talent for playing both sides of the game. Voldemort believed him to be a loyal Death Eater. Albus Dumbledore believed, and knew, that Snape was really a loyal Order member. Snapes personality lent itself to most everyone else believing the former. He was anything but light and goodness. Even among the long-standing members of the Order, there were many who believed Dumbledore was a misguided fool. Their gut told them that Snape was not to be trusted with Order business. What they did not realize was that Dumbledore never trusted any information to Snape until it was clear that the information being in Voldemorts hands would be of benefit to the Order. It was with mutual agreement that they maintained this secrecy. Voldemort was a supreme Legilimens. There could never be a chance of dangerous information about Order business being made known to him. Snape knew this and accepted it as how it must be. Even when it chafed that he was not privy to all information at Dumbledores' disposal, he could find respite in the fact that no one knew everything except Dumbledore. He alone held all the pieces to any plans or designs against Voldemort. Until Harry Potter became old enough and strong enough to defeat Voldemort in a final battle, Dumbledore alone was the key to all that held him at bay.

Snape inclined his head to the headmaster. "Then I leave it to your capable hands to decide best how to proceed." With that, he turned in a swirl of black robes and stalked to the door. He paused then, and turned back. "I only ask you to truly consider whether I am the most logical choice to go amongst _muggles_. I will do my utmost if you assign this to me, of course. But _triple agen_t?" He could not stop thinking about the tangle that would likely be. " I fear my roles would somehow become confused at an inopportune time…" He stopped speaking, and after one more non-verbal look of questioning in his eyes, he swept silently out of the room.

It irritated him no end that the Headmaster had twisted the complaints he had come up with against him. Damn! He somehow always overplayed his hand when it came to manipulating Dumbledore. As he stormed back down the stairs to his dungeons, he longed to hex another student or two. Unfortunately, no one had been stupid enough to step unwittingly in his path as he made his way. Back in the Potions classroom, he stood with his hands clenched at his sides. Everything had been cleaned up from last period and was ready for the next group. The order seemed to help him calm down. His domain was a good place for him to be. His. At least until the Gryffindor and Slytherin 2nd years arrived in a short while. He groaned inwardly as he remembered the Gryffindor muggleborn in that class. She was as inept as Longbottom ever was, and twice as unfocused as Lovegood in Ravenclaw. It was a distinctly deadly combination in Potions.

With a mental shake of his head, Snape began a plan of action that he was sure to have to take when todays potion brewing went wrong.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 Simple Questions

A few days later, Snape had had more time to digest the idea of his going as a spy into the Muggle world. Alone in his dungeon quarters, he felt an unaccustomed sense of anxiety when he had begun thinking of what the assignment would entail. He had never spent any longer than necessary in non-magical surroundings.

Usually, he was in the guise of Death Eater, and part of one of Voldemort's Muggle torture parties. Behind his mask, he could be detached from what was happening as he carefully shielded his feelings of disgust and revulsion from Voldemort and his followers. As a Potions Master, he had managed to convince Voldemort that his hands must remain free of Muggle contamination of any kind. This enabled him to avoid active participation in the despicable acts of the Death Eaters, but he had to maintain a presence, and an attitude of disappointment that he was unable to take part in the atrocities.

His abilities at Occlumency were honed to the highest level, the better to deceive Voldemort concerning his true feelings. Now, despite his abilities in acting this role, he found himself in a state of near panic. It would be completely different than anything he had ever encountered. It would require him to be an active participant in Muggle ways of life. The feelings of panic caused him even greater anger, as he dealt with what he considered to be personal weakness. To even consider that he would be weak in the Muggle world made him want to lash out and roar his furious denial of such a ridiculous concept. He was never weak. He was an excellent strategist and he was without exception a cold and heartless man. His roles demanded it. This was a foolish and worthless endeavour. He strode back up to Dumbledore's office to confront him and force him to forget that Snape should even be considered for this job.

Snape glared at Albus. "You are insane if you think I will do this. The attempt will only cause unmitigated problems. It's…it's unnecessary. We can learn what we need from books…"

Albus held up a hand. "Severus, books alone cannot teach what we must learn. You, more than any other, must realize that theory without practical application is a job half done." He stopped then, waiting to see if the Potions Master would argue the point.

Snape turned away, the tension in his shoulders evident, his hands clenched into fists. He fought for a calm voice. He knew that if he hoped to win this argument he would have to outwit a master. Where the devil was his strategist's mind now? Even as he thought it, he knew he had lost.

"Albus, I do believe you have managed to outmanoeuvre me … but be advised- I do not plan to do this docilely. As much as the Muggle-born students may need an orientation to our world, I cannot yet agree that this is the way to go about it." His head was beginning to pound. With one hand, he rubbed at an aching temple. "Surely, if we apply ourselves to the problem, we might find a better solution … or think of someone else who could do this better."

The Headmaster still had a twinkle in his eye when Snape turned to face him again. "If I were you, Severus, I would consider speaking with Mr. Potter and Miss Granger. They could provide valuable insight."

Snape's eyes widened. "That's it! We can simply talk to the Muggle-borns themselves and put together the curriculum. No need to place ourselves in jeopardy by going into full spy mode." He grasped at the chance to escape the Headmasters plan.

"Severus, my boy," Albus was gently shaking his head, "I do urge you to think more on this. I believe that you will reach the same conclusion I have, if you are honest with yourself. The Muggle-borns are in such a shock at the differences we impose upon them here that they would not be able to give us any truly useful information. We need to have a wizard explore their world with a more objective eye. That wizard must have an excellent sense of detail. That wizard must be able to think quickly on their feet and adjust to changing circumstances in an instant. He should be able to see past the obvious and discern things that may be unspoken."

Sighing heavily, Snape nodded. Dumbledore had neatly worded a job description that only Snape could wholly fill. Without another word, he turned and walked out the door. This time, his steps were not so hurried. This time, his mind was not on his incompetent students, but on the possibility of an assignment that was so far out of his own experience, he could not yet fathom it. His gut churned and he thought that he might rather be back attending Death Eater meetings than planning to enter a world he had never set foot in, except in passing. He found himself back in his dungeon quarters without realizing how he had even gotten there.

Monday morning (double potions) was worse than the usual gruelling session. Snape was, if possible, more alarmingly overbearing and intolerant of the slightest infraction. Even the Slytherins became subdued when his wrath extended to them in equal share with the Gryffindors. By the end of the class, students were fighting to control their trembling enough to finish cleaning up without attracting further attention from Snape. Five minutes before the proper dismissal, he suddenly roared at them all, "Get out! And see that when you do return you are adequately prepared to brew this potion _again,_ _without _hesitation, _without_ flaw, _without_ mishap, or your houses will suffer point losses the likes of which you have never seen!"

Students scurried to obey. Before they could actually walk (most just ran) out the door, Snape's voice growled, "Miss Granger, Mr. Potter, you will stay."

Harry and Hermione looked at each other and at Ron. Hermione looked like she was desperately trying to think of what she could have done to earn a detention. Harry and Ron just looked resigned. When the other students had gone, Snape purred, "Mr. Weasley, I do not recall asking you to stay, but if you must join your little band in every miscalculated misadventure, you may." Ron quickly made his way to the door, but was stopped when Snape continued, "Never mind, Mr. Weasley. You might as well remain. There is nothing I will say that you will not know within minutes after these two leave the room anyway."

The three looked questioningly at each other again. Snape had never acknowledged that the three of them shared any and all information they had with each other. Of course, it wasn't any secret either. As they started to sit down, Snape beckoned them with a crooked finger. "My office, if you will."

Now Hermione looked positively alarmed, never having been in enough trouble to be called into the actual office of the Potions Master. Harry and Ron just shrugged as they followed Snape into the smaller room. Once inside, Snape pointed his wand at the door, murmuring. Hermione whimpered. "Cease your _snivelling_, Miss Granger." He looked at Harry as he said this, silently challenging him to ignore the word 'snivelling', knowing he had heard it before during one of their more disastrous Occlumency lessons. When Harry just gave him a slight nod, Snape continued. "I have no reprimands for you … this time. I am merely casting a Silencing Charm . I am certain there are those who would love to know exactly what the three of you are in trouble for. I choose to deny them that opportunity. Sit. We have much to discuss."

"But Professor, we have Charms in a few minutes…" Hermione spoke quickly.

"Professor Flitwick is aware that you will be detained, Miss Granger. Your performance in his class allows him to be persuaded that you will not fall behind easily." He sat down behind his desk and rested his tightly clenched hands atop it as he stared at them for a long moment.

Not daring to look at each other, the three sat down in chairs positioned in front of Snape's desk. He continued to look at them thoughtfully for another few minutes. When they began to fidget nervously, he broke the silence again. "Do you consider yourselves to be representative of the typical teenager?"

Three mouths dropped open. If there was anything they might have expected Snape to ask them, this was certainly not it.

When there was no response to his question, Snape rolled his eyes and leaned towards them. "Do I need to rephrase the question? Or is the question that difficult? Are you or are you not typical teenagers?" He could feel a vein throbbing in his temple … the beginning of yet another headache. He was searching their faces intently, as if the answer to his question would appear if he just looked hard enough.

Hermione swallowed and said, "Perhaps if we knew why you are asking, Professor … I mean, 'typical' in what way?"

"In any way, Miss Granger. For example, do all teenagers have this need to belabour or argue simple questions?" Snape was peering at her closely.

Hermione looked at Harry and Ron for help. They were still sitting with their mouths open. Snape finally sighed loudly in exasperation. "Miss Granger, I have never known you to be so utterly at a loss for words. Any other time you would feel compelled to spew twice as much information than necessary when asked such a simple question."

Hermione's mouth snapped shut. "I do not _spew_…"

Harry interrupted, "But that's just it, Professor. It's _not_ a simple question. We think we are normal, but every day you say we're stupid-"

"I have never called you _stupid_, Potter," Snape sneered.

"Oh, right. Just brainless, incapable, deficient in grey matter, dismal, inept-" Harry began naming off adjectives that Snape commonly used when correcting their Potions essays, as well as occasionally out loud during particularly difficult classes.

"Potter, that is hardly the same as calling you stupid." Snape stood up and his robes billowed as he crossed the room to walk behind them. They swivelled their heads to keep him in sight as he paced.

Hermione tried again, her voice hesitant and low, "Actually, sir, when you say those things, it _does _make us feel like you think we're stupid."

Snape growled deep in his throat. The three friends looked at each other, desperately wondering what the right answer was. Their silence was broken when Ron cleared his throat. Snape stopped his pacing and looked at him expectantly. Ron stuttered, "W-well, sir, my mum is always saying we're typical. D-d-does that count?"

Snape looked at him. He opened his mouth to speak and then shut it again. Turning away from them, he said quietly, "Just go on to your class."

They slowly got to their feet. Hermione stepped towards him. "We are trying to answer your question, sir. It's just that the answer depends on the context in which you are asking it. What is typical for one of us is not typical for another. You know how different Gryffindors and Slytherins are…"

"I understand, Miss Granger. I have asked a seemingly simple question, when there is no such thing." He glanced over his shoulder at them and motioned with his head. "Just go."

They left quietly, and the office door shut of its own accord once they were through it. They had walked a few steps away when they heard a loud 'thump', and the door shook on its hinges, as if something very angry and heavy had slammed into it on the other side. Without a word, they walked even faster and fled the classroom.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 Putting the Puzzle Together

"What do you think he was asking?" Ron asked as they sat in the library.

"_Why_, is what I want to know," Harry whispered loudly. "It's not likely that after all these years he's trying to understand students, is it?"

Hermione tapped her quill against the table in thought. "It is odd…I mean, he seemed so earnest, and then so angry that we didn't answer as he expected."

Ron nodded his head and said bitingly, "I bet he's up to something, though. That bat-git doesn't do anything without some ulterior motive. Maybe he feels like he needs new material to torture us with in class, and he's trying to see if we have any weak spots he hasn't exploited yet."

Madam Pince hissed at them from her desk. They bent back over their homework. For several minutes, the only sound was the scratching of quill on parchment. A deep low murmur caught their attention and they looked up to see Snape bent over the librarian's desk. She pointed out a section of books and Snape stood up straight. As he turned, he saw them staring at him. His black eyes regarded them for a moment. Then he turned and headed towards the aisle Madam Pince had indicated. After a few minutes, he left the library with several books under his arm.

Hermione got up and walked to the section Snape had just left. When she returned to the table, she was frowning.

"What was it?" Ron asked, leaning forward on the table.

"Muggle Studies," she answered, still frowning. When Ron tried to speak again, she shushed him. "Wait, I'm thinking…" They let her think. That's what she did best. Most things were like a puzzle for her and when she had enough of the pieces, she could put it together. After a few minutes she dropped her head into her hands. "Oh, I don't know. He asked about typical teens, and now he's looking at Muggle Studies material. I can't see a connection."

"Nothing he does makes sense to me." Ron sighed.

Harry sat up straight. "But he asked Hermione and me first. We both came from Muggle families … what if it's not us he wants to understand at all? What if it's Muggle teenagers?"

"But why?" Hermione moaned. "Why Muggle teens? Do you think he's doing something to find out about Muggles for You Know Who?"

"Voldemort wouldn't care about finding out anything like that- stop it Ron," Harry added when Ron flinched at the name Harry mentioned. "It has to be for some other reason."

"I suppose we will find out soon enough, if it's something we need to know," Hermione said. The boys looked at her in surprise. For Hermione to drop a topic so easily wasn't like her at all. She bent back over her homework without another word. After watching her for a bit, they bent back over theirs.

Following their next Potions class, Snape noted that Hermione remained at her seat, slowly organizing her bag. When Harry and Ron stopped beside her to wait, she said, "Go on ahead. I just want to ask the professor something."

"Want us to wait, 'Mione?" Ron asked.

"No, that's alright. I'll catch up in a bit."

When they were gone, Hermione looked up at Snape. He stood silently with his arms crossed. His usual intimidating posture caused Hermione to draw a shaky breath. When he still did not speak, she started, "I was wondering if you had discovered what you were looking for in the library, sir?"

"And this would be your business because…?" he drawled.

"Well, you did ask us about typical teenager behaviour, and then you got books about Muggles out of the library, so I was wondering if you-"

"How would you know what I got from the library, Miss Granger? Were you spying on me?" Snape's voice was softly controlled.

Hermione shook her head quickly. "Of course not, sir, I just looked at the section you had been in and assumed that the books you got were about Muggles, because that is what type of books-"

He interrupted her again, "And you were checking up on my reading habits, perhaps? Are you were doing this because of some misguided sense of concern?" The volume was rising now. "I do not appreciate it when a student has the gall to question me, Miss Granger. It is _not_ your concern what I choose as reading material. I am, after all your Professor. You would do well to remember that fact."

Hermione looked up at him, a plea in her voice. "I just wanted to help, sir! It seemed so important to you when you asked us about teenagers before! And when we saw you in the library, it seemed as if you were still searching for answers. I thought maybe I could help, if I could understand how it all connects. That's all. I wasn't spying, or trying to be presumptuous." She chewed her lower lip to stop its trembling. In a small voice, she finished, "I just want to help."

Snape looked down his nose at the girl sitting in front of him. It irked him that she was right. He did need her help. All the blasted Muggle books in the library were from one perspective. They attempted to explain about some Muggle forms of government, or business, or belief systems. But they severely neglected any of the psychological aspects of how Muggles behaved, or how they lived their everyday lives. Albus had been right. More research into behaviour was definitely needed, if they were to adequately prepare Muggle-born wizards for a meaningful life in the wizarding world. This girl was Muggle-born. She was one of the few who sailed right into this new universe and quickly adapted to it. Her mind was sharp, and she was quick-witted. Others in her position struggled daily to make adjustments. They needed an almost unending amount of tutoring and support. Those students who were pure- or half-blood persecuted them for the experience they lacked. Some fell so far behind that they left altogether and fled back to the Muggle world. If those who opposed Voldemort hoped to win the war, they needed every wizard they could get. It was becoming clearer all the time that to be so divided by their circumstances of birth weakened them.

He stepped towards her in a swirl of black robes. His eyes bored into hers with a fierce intensity as he spoke, "I do require your help. As much as it pains me to say it, I do need some assistance in this particular matter."

Hermione looked at him expectantly. He seemed to be deciding just what to say. Finally, he sighed deeply. Leaning the palms of his hands on the table, he said, "I am to be teaching Muggle teenagers this summer. In an effort to develop a curriculum here to assist our own Muggle-born students, we decided that personal experience would be necessary." He did not to say that he would rather swallow an overdose of his own potions rather than participate in it, nor did he add that it was Albus Dumbledore who had insisted that this was the only course of action. "When I asked you and Mr. Potter if you were typical teenagers, I was hoping to obtain enough information without resorting to the plan at hand." He walked around the room as he continued. "I should have realized that the two of you were anything but typical, in that world as well as here. There is nothing else to do but enter the Muggle realm and _experience _it first hand." He spat the word 'experience' as if it had a bitter taste.

Hermione sat up straighter in her chair. Nodding her head, she spoke with confidence, "You may count on us to do what we can to help you, sir. Perhaps we aren't typical examples of teenagers in either world, but we can still help you prepare. I know Harry and Ron will both be willing, and there are others-"

"I would prefer to keep the '_help_' at a minimum number of people, Miss Granger. I am not convinced that this will not end badly as it is. You will keep this 'help' to yourself, and to Messrs Potter and Weasley."

"Yes, Professor," Hermione replied meekly. Then she couldn't help but add, "But you know, sir, there are so many students who could give you some real insight from their vantage point-" She stopped speaking as Snape directed a black glare at her.

Snape continued his consideration of her for so long, that Hermione thought he must be looking right through her, and had forgotten she was there. She shifted her feet nervously, working up the courage to ask if there was anything he needed at that moment.

At her shifting, his eyes seemed to refocus on her. He stood back up, again a tower of billowing blackness. His arms crossed over his chest and he spoke with a low voice, as if to make sure they were not overheard, "It will be necessary to arrange some meetings for us to discuss what needs to be done." Now he looked at her searchingly, as if asking for ideas as to how to do this. When she said nothing, he shook his head. "No thoughts on this, Miss Granger? I am disappointed. No matter. We will simply have to say the three of you have been caught again in some hair-brained Gryffindor scheme and have to serve a series of detentions as a result."

Hermione sputtered, "_Detention_! I've never had detention!" Her hands were flapping in agitation.

"I believe the illusion will serve its purpose. I need you all together, and I will need you for long periods until all preparations are complete." He waited to see if she would argue this point, and then continued, "It must be believable. There are eyes and ears of Death Eaters here, and if they hear of this, the Dark Lord will hear of it."

"But why would he care about Hogwarts developing a new course of study?" she asked in confusion.

"Think, Miss Granger. The Dark Lord knows that Albus Dumbledore does nothing here at Hogwarts without deep consideration for long-term plans. A new course of study, one to improve Muggle-born magical adjustments, will lead him to know that we are attempting to improve their abilities and the speed with which they learn to live in the magical world. He will know that this is a battle preparation effort. He will know that this is another means to give Potter the edge."

Hermione looked stunned. She had thought that this was simply a plan to help the Muggle-born students. The battle of good against evil, and how this help would possibly tip the balance into their favour, was not something that had occurred to her. As this realization continued to dawn on her, her face flushed angrily. "You're using the Muggle-borns- readying them for the war-"

"_All_ of us are being used!" he hissed, just as angrily. "_All_ of us have to make a choice. Where will our loyalties lie when the time comes to choose? Would it not be prudent to help the Muggle-borns in their struggle to adjust, thus leading them to the light, and to be of use to Potter? Or would you rather we continue to stand by and let them founder and be prey to the dark when it attempts to draw them over?" His black eyes bore into hers.

She lowered her eyes. Her shoulders drooped and she was sitting down on a stool. As the silence lengthened, Snape realized that he had just effectively talked himself into believing that this was, in fact, the right thing to do. It was important, and not just some menial school duty that Dumbledore was shoving on him. The strength of the side of light might depend on the capabilities of the Muggle-borns. They would need every wand ready to fight against Voldemort. As much as Snape disliked Potter, he knew that he did need everyone possible at his side. Dumbledore had been right again. By thinking this through more, he now knew that this was something he could and would pursue and see it through.

Snape looked at Hermione. Her head was turned away from him, and he knew that he should let her know that he had reached these conclusions at the same time she had. But somehow, his pride, and the fact that his reputation would not allow for any such admission prevented it. Instead, he spoke again in his usual sneering tones; "You will let Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley know that the detentions will commence beginning tomorrow night, following dinner. Here, in my office."

With that, he turned and sat at the desk. Pulling a stack of essay parchments towards him, he bent over them in studious effort. Hermione knew she had been dismissed. She quietly got up and gathered her bag from the floor. As she left the room, she didn't see the black eyes that followed her.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 To Be With My Friends

"I cannot believe you told him we would help, Hermione!" Ron was waving his hands around. "The worst excuse for a teacher asks you for help at figuring out Muggles and you just go right on and agree to it. Are you mental?"

They had the Gryffindor common room to themselves for the moment, and were using the opportunity to discuss matters out loud, rather than in the usual secretive whispers.

"You know he's not the worst excuse for a teacher, Ronald. Just because _you_ don't get along with him doesn't mean he's a bad teacher."

" I suppose you get along with him alright, huh? That's why he's forever taking your head off, because you know the right answers and dare to tell him!" Ron yelled.

"Ronald Weasley, you are impossible! Of course I don't get along all the sudden. But he is trying to do something to help Muggle-born students. Maybe that doesn't mean much to you, oh pure blood highness, but _some _of us might have appreciated a little helpful background in the magical world when we were admitted to Hogwarts. _Some_ of us didn't grow up knowing we were able to do magic. _Some _of us only ever knew the Muggle ways in which we were raised for the first eleven years of our life!" Hermione was breathing hard when she finished her scathing statement.

" Okay, okay." Ron held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "But why did you say_ I_ would help? I don't know anything, other than my dad likes Muggles and their odd little…things."

Harry stepped in, "Maybe she thought you would want to be with _us_. _Maybe _she thought you wouldn't want to be left out. Maybe she thought you would _want_ to help other witches and wizards who had the disadvantage of growing up in Muggle homes. Maybe she thought you'd realize that we need _all_ the people we can get on our side in this war. _I _need them. I need _you_, Ron."

The three friends stood looking at each other. Ron threw himself onto the common room sofa and buried his face in a pillow. His voice was muffled when he spoke. " I _do _want to be with you. I just don't trust Snape, is all. I don't understand why you believe that he's doing something so– honorable, all the sudden."

"Dumbledore trusts him. Don't you trust Dumbledore?" Harry asked.

"Of course I trust _him_." Silence weighed heavily as they all thought about that. Finally, Ron sighed. "I suppose that we can trust Snape a little bit…at least for this. But if he messes you up when all you're doing is trying to help, I'm gonna give the git what for." He punched the sofa pillow hard for emphasis.

" _Us_, Ron." Hermione said quietly. "If you're with us in this, it's us that will be doing the helping. _All_ three of us."

The friends each placed a right hand out and clasped them together. For whatever would happen; whatever might befall any one of them; they were in it together. As always. Harry thought he just might bite through his inner lip, if he tried any harder to keep it from trembling. These were his friends- his best friends. How had he been lucky enough to end up with them, instead of, say, Crabbe, or Goyle, or some nice Hufflepuff who, in spite of best efforts, couldn't hold a candle to the courage and determination that these two friends had shown? He squeezed their hands firmly, and looked both of them steadily in the eye. He wanted to make sure they understood what this meant to him.

"I know it might seem like this doesn't have anything to do with our fight against Voldemort. But it does. Muggle-borns and half bloods are whom he goes after first. If Snape has a plan for how to help them help us in this war, then I say we do whatever it takes."

"Thank you for your vote of confidence, Mr. Potter." They all started, not having noticed Snape enter their common room. He stood just inside the portrait hole, drawn up to his full height with his arms crossed over his chest. How long had he been standing there, listening?

Ron clenched his fists at his side, " You can't come into our common room! You're a Slytherin!"

"I am also a teacher, Mr. Weasley, as well as an Order member. As such, I have free access to anywhere in this castle." Snape spoke with bland nonchalance.

Ron stared at the tall man with his mouth open in horror. He turned away, but Harry heard him mumble under his breath, "That's not right at all- creeping about everywhere like some bat from hell…"

Snape had obviously chosen to ignore the comment. Harry knew he had heard what Ron said. Snape heard everything. Instead, he simply said, " I thought you should know that the location of your- _detention_- has been changed to the Room of Requirement. Anything we need to lay aside or keep as a work in progress we can keep in there. The room can be sealed to prevent anyone else from using it for the time being. I admonish you all, as I have already admonished Miss Granger, to keep this to yourselves."

"Why is that necessary, sir? Wouldn't it be good to let everyone see what you're trying to do?" Harry asked.

Snape regarded him for a moment, like he was weighing possible responses, and didn't like any of them. "Let's just say that it could harm my work for the Order if certain people knew of this –enterprise."

"You mean you want them to believe you're still a Death Eater, and a supporter of You Know Who.Helping Muggle-borns just doesn't mesh." Ron shrugged.

They could see Snapes' jaw tighten and his hands clench into fists at his sides. Another long moment and then, " A rather simplistic interpretation, Mr. Weasley, but seeing that it is _your_ interpretation, I suppose it will suffice." Looking at them each in turn, he finished, "Don't be late." Without another word, he silently passed through the portrait hole and was gone.

In another moment, Gryffindors began to pour through to the common room. It was apparent by their carefree attitudes that Snape had already disappeared when they had stood outside speaking the password to the Fat Lady. Otherwise, they would have been much more subdued in their behavior. Snape did not encourage pleasant conversation and laughter. The three friends looked at each other, silently wondering, how did he do that? How did he disappear so completely in mere seconds? Harry answered these unspoken questions, "I guess that's what makes him a good spy."

No further private conversation was possible at the moment, so they each got out their homework and set to it. But in the back of their minds, thoughts about the next evening were competing with efforts to focus on Transfiguration and History of Magic.

The three were subdued during the evening meal the following day. They finished quickly, and when Snape arose from the head table they got up also. Seamus and Dean looked up. They already knew that they had a detention with Snape. Word had been spread around Gryffindor about how they had been caught brewing Polyjuice Potion again. No one was surprised about Harry and Ron, but there were many raised eyebrows when Hermione was also "caught". As they passed their friends on their way out of the Great Hall, there were quick pats of on the back and murmurs of encouragement. Ron and Harry simply looked resigned. Hermione looked mortified at people thinking she had a detention. As they walked the halls on the way to the Room of Requirement, she kept moaning under her breath about how her academic career was now marred.

They reached the hallway where the room was located and Harry was the one to do the requisite steps to get the door to admit them. Before going in, they all joined their right hands again. This had become their sign of unity; a way of strengthening each other and silently signaling that, no matter what, they were where they were meant to be; with each other.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: First Lessons 

When they entered the Room of Requirement, they found that Snape had arrived before them and was sitting in a comfortable chair. The door closed behind them and they stood staring at this unbelievable sight. Snape rarely sat. When he did, it was behind his massive desk, grading papers. Otherwise, he stood, either stalking around the classroom, or towering over the students in a menacing fashion. He regarded their silent disbelief for a long moment and then said, "If you are finished behaving like three guppies out of water, you may sit down. We have quite a bit of material to cover."

They took seats in three other chairs that with Snape's, were grouped around a low table. Ink, quills and blank parchment were arranged on the table, should they need it. The four of them spent another bit just staring at each other silently, before Hermione cleared her throat. She lifted her chin as she looked at Snape. "Professor, I was wondering if it was really necessary for our supposed crime to be so… overdone? I mean, couldn't it have been something less damaging to our reputations?"

Snape looked at her quietly over steepled fingers. "I saw no other alternative that would serve our purposes, Miss Granger. It is known that the three of you brewed the Polyjuice potion in your second year. It is therefore not too much of a stretch to suppose that you might think you could get away with doing it again. The degree of the infraction enabled me to give you the extensive detentions required to accomplish what needs to be done."

"And we are to just put up with all the haranguing that the Slytherins decide to throw at us?" Ron commented hotly.

Snape gave him a meaningful, sneering smile. "Yes. You are."

Harry was looking at Snape thoughtfully. "Professor, Hermione mentioned that you would be teaching Muggle teenagers this summer … could you explain what you meant by that? It might help us to know how to help you."

"The Headmaster is making arrangements for me to teach summer school at a Muggle high school. Hopefully, the short experience will be of adequate benefit to us, and by not being absent from Hogwarts during regular classes here, we will avoid undue attention."

"High school? Is that the same as secondary or finishing school? Where will it be and what will you be teaching?" Hermione began firing questions.

Snape answered the questions calmly, though Harry could sense that he was not as relaxed as he would have them believe. "Yes, high school would encompass the ages that we most see here at Hogwarts. Actually, first years are bit younger than Muggle high school students, but given our time constraints, we will have to make do with the older representation. As to where it will be, we must wait for the Headmaster to give us that information. While a school in Great Britain would be convenient, it might not be safe. Supporters of the Dark Lord come from all over the British Isles and Europe. The further away I am, the less likely it would be that I would be compromised. It is my understanding that I will be teaching a subject that is similar to Potions - it is called chemistry."

"Chemistry should be very easy for you to teach, Professor," Hermione said, nodding her head. "That's about as exact a science as Muggles have. If we get some books, it shouldn't be a problem for you to learn all you need to know about it."

Ron had been observing all this and now spoke up. "What do you need us for, then?"

Snape regarded him for a moment. Taking a slow deep breath, he explained, "I have never been in Muggle _society, _Mr.Weasley. My sole experience with Muggles has been as a teacher to Muggle-born wizards, and-" he hesitated before finishing, "-and as a Death Eater."

He waited while that statement sunk in. Harry drew in a hissing breath. "You mean as a participant in Voldemort's Muggle torture events," he said softly.

Snape nodded curtly. The teenagers thought about this and then Harry spoke again. "You'll need to know about Muggle money, and transportation, and in general, how to act like a Muggle. I mean, you can't very well pull out your wand and have assignments appear on the board like you do here, can you?"

Snape opened his mouth to reply, and then snapped it shut. In truth, he had not thought about the fact that his use of magic would be limited. During his time spent with Muggles, he would be unable to openly use his wand. He did have some significant ability in wandless and non-verbal magic. He would have to work on this prior to the assignment. He had no intention of being completely non-magical while he was immersed in a non-magical society.

Hermione pulled a sheet of parchment towards herself. "I'll start a list. Harry and I will try to think of all the everyday things you might encounter. Ron, you know all those things you've asked us about over the years - things like how telephones and mail work? Make sure you mention anything like that. Harry and I may not think of everything. We go home for summer break and just automatically switch over, because we have to and we're used to it. Even the things your dad asks us about can be important in this case. For instance, batteries fascinate Mr. Weasley." She looked at Snape as she said this. "Harry and I usually humour him, but batteries _are_ important in Muggle life, and you will need to understand what they are and how they are used." She bent over the parchment and began to write rapidly. "Once we have a list started, Professor, I will draw up a schedule for us to make sure we cover it all."

She was still writing and Snape looked at Harry and Ron. His face was curiously devoid of its usual sneer, and instead, he wore an expression of mild disbelief. Shaking his head slowly, he said, "She talks exactly like she writes."

Ron snorted. "Welcome to our world. Lists, mountains of notes, charts, and study schedules-"

"Thank you, _Ronald._ I'll remember what a hardship my help is, next time we have exams coming up. You never seem to have any complaints after the fact, when you _pass_." Her eyes were narrowed as she spoke scathingly.

Ron held up a placating hand. "You know what I mean, 'Mione. Studying's hard for me. I might not like it, but I know I wouldn't have done nearly as well without your help."

Hermione seemed slightly soothed by this statement. Snape was watching the exchange with interest. Ron noticed this and immediately assumed that Snape had the wrong idea.

"I don't mean we cheat, Professor. Hermione would never stand for that. She makes _us_ do all the work. She's just able to put it in an order that we can manage. She sees to it that we don't stop until it's in our heads for good. If she can do it for us, I'm sure she can do it for you." Ron nodded confidently.

Snape drawled sarcastically, "I'm sure I'll manage to keep up, Mr. Weasley."

In the next hour, Hermione continued to make her list as Harry and Ron thought of things to go on it. For the most part, Snape remained silent. Occasionally, he asked about an item on the list. If it could be explained briefly, Harry or Hermione did so. If not, he waved for her to continue. As they worked, he began to understand that she was truly a brilliant witch. She had an innate ability to organize and process information. She appeared to genuinely enjoy learning and helping others learn. For the first time, Snape began to feel that this would be possible to do. Alone, he would have still been trying to decide what to do first in his preparation. Hermione had jumped in and efficiently drawn up not only a list of items to be covered, but also an outline and time schedule for getting it accomplished.

With his list in hand, Snape dismissed them and again cautioned them about inadvertently talking about the 'project' to anyone. As far as any other student knew, the detentions were to continue indefinitely. Hermione turned to face him before she left. "Professor, would you like for me to owl my father to get some chemistry books for you? I'm sure I've never seen any in Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley. He could get some from the university near where they live."

He considered for a moment. "That would be most … helpful, Miss Granger. If you are certain he would not mind, I would appreciate it."

She flashed him a bright smile and then followed Harry and Ron out the door.

Snape looked down at the list. He could not remember ever feeling like a task was too much of a challenge. In fact, he thrived on the difficult and dangerous. His preference for solitude and being solely in charge of his destiny gave him a great deal of satisfaction. The need to depend on these Junior Marauders was grating and unsettling. As he read over the list, a tiny bubble of anxiety started to grow in his mind.

_Money: handling, exchange,_

Transportation: all types typical 

_Communications: mail, telephone, computers_

_Electricity & other utilities_

_Societal structure: basic laws, etc._

_Entertainment: movies, television, sports_

_Manners_

_Clothing_

_Food_

Snape scowled. Hermione had taken the expanded list with her. He would have to let her know in no uncertain terms that they would not be discussing entertainment, manners, or clothing. He could not imagine what she thought these had to do with the project. Entertainment would be a frivolous waste of time at best. His manners were more than correct for any society, and his clothing was above reproach. Obviously, she thought to exact some childish revenge for points he had taken from Gryffindor over the years.

He pulled a parchment sheet towards himself and began his own list.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6**: A Rough Start**

The next evening at dinner, it was obvious that Hermione was more than a little irritated that she had to continue the charade of having detention with Snape. Even though their fellow Gryffindors were supportive and sympathetic, they still managed to express their disbelief that _Hermione Granger_ had landed herself in such trouble.

The three friends rose from the table when they saw their professor do so. This time, they arrived before he did at the Room of Requirement.

He swept into the room and the air turned chilly as he eyed them from high above their already seated positions.

"Miss Granger, after reviewing your list, I have some corrections to make."

"Yes, Professor? Did you think of something to add?" Hermione asked.

"No. I do believe that there are a few items that can be dispensed with," he intoned in a low voice.

Hermione jumped up. "But, sir! You can't leave out any of it and be well-prepared!"

"I fail to see what the subjects of entertainment, manners or clothing have to do with the success of the assignment," Snape sneered.

Harry stood up, "Professor, they may have everything to do with your success. You need to know how these things are different for Muggles, because believe me, they are _very _different. You don't want people to think you're weird or something … then you'd never learn what you need to."

"_Weird_, Potter?" Snape's voice had a dangerous snarl to it.

The three looked at each other, clearly at a loss to see what was wrong, and what they were supposed to say.

At that moment, the door opened and Dumbledore strolled in. "Ah, here you all are. It's good to see you all settling down to work so eagerly."

Silence. Dumbledore looked around at them all. After a few tense seconds, he continued, "Perhaps a third party, such as myself, might be able to smooth over any rough starts?"

"Rough start? How about _no _start?" Ron began. "Professor Snape seemed agreeable last night, but now he wants to back out-"

"I had not yet seen the extent of the ridiculous topics that comprised the list." Snape's chin was raised defensively.

"Ridiculous?" Hermione's voice was soft, but the boys both recognized the tone that meant that her fuse was lit. "You asked for our help. You made it seem like major detentions for the three of us - punishment for offences we did not commit. You sat here and listened as we all discussed what topics should be covered, so you could be prepared for this role of Muggle teacher. You did not voice one objection last night. And now you have the gall - the audacity - to call it ridiculous-"

"You will not use that tone with me, Miss Granger. You are in no position to decide what is needed to prepare for this role," Snape sneered down into her face.

Hermione took a step backwards, her narrowed eyes not leaving his flashing dark ones. After a few moments, she drew herself up and lifted her own chin. "You're right, of course, Professor. I am sorry to have presumed to know anything of use to you concerning Muggles. After all, I only lived and breathed it for twelve years and return to it now on holidays. My mistake. I apologize for taking up your valuable time." With that, she turned and walked out the door, closing it softly behind her.

The teenage boys and the two professors looked at each other. A muscle was twitching in Snape's jaw, his fists opening and closing at his sides. Dumbledore spoke softly to the boys, "You may both return to your dormitory for now. I believe Professor Snape and I have some business to discuss before your lessons continue."

Silence reigned for several minutes after the door closed behind Ron and Harry. Albus sat down in a chair and watched Severus calmly as the younger man paced the floor. Finally, he broke the silence by asking softly, "Severus, what is it? Why is this such a difficult thing for you?"

More silence stretched out as Severus continued his frenetic pacing. Once, he stopped and appeared to try to speak, but the effort proved unsuccessful, and he whirled around, walking even faster. Albus chose to wait him out, knowing that any answers would have to come from within the tall man before him.

Severus had never felt at such odds within himself before. For Merlin's sake, he was a _Death Eater_! He had been a spy for both sides for years! He had been the bane of Hogwarts students for years! A single look from him caused fear and trembling in almost everyone he encountered! What _was_ the difficulty? Why was this such a distasteful project to him? It should be a respite from the constant thoughts of deceit and death. It should be an easy accomplishment for a man of his skills … perhaps that was it. He was steeped in intrigue and strategies. This project was entirely too - _fluffy_. It was not worthy of his consideration. Perhaps there was (_there must be_) someone better suited to giving this project the attention it needed. He turned to Albus. "I refuse to believe that I am the man for this. Give me the order to go to the Dark Lord himself and seek whatever information he has in the way of plans for Muggles and Muggle-borns. But I will not take this upon myself. I am needed to do to those more demanding roles. These exercises in discovering Muggle-born psychological motivations may be left to those who truly care and have this as the only way they can contribute to the cause." He stopped and looked down at Albus, his arms crossed over his chest.

Albus peered up at him, a hint of amusement in his eyes as he observed the superior attitude being displayed. "My dear Severus. We have already been over this. It is not an assignment that is beneath you as you so obviously believe." He held up a firm hand to belay the protest about to erupt from Severus' mouth. "I believe what you are feeling is a fear of the unknown. For all the horrors and trials you have endured over the years, it was the expectation of horror that has held you steady. Now that we have the opportunity to use your skills in a more innocuous way, you are feeling understandably off-centre. Innocuous doesn't mean unimportant, remember. This, too, is part of the bigger picture. The Muggle-born witches and wizards are vulnerable to being persuaded to Voldemort's side in the war, or be killed for simply being Muggle-born. For he will, no doubt, see them as possible pawns at some point. We have an opportunity to help them be better versed and more comfortable in the wizarding world, and thus keep them safer and on our side - Harry's side."


	7. Chapter 6 continued

Chapter 6 (continued) Misgivings

He watched the other closely now, for he knew that his willingness to undertake the Muggle-born project might be in serious jeopardy. He knew that Snape was the best man for the job. His powers of observation, together with his ability to play any role necessary, would ensure quick success in obtaining the information they needed.

The glare from the obsidian eyes was palpable. Both men kept their eyes locked with the other. In one set, there was defiance, anger, and pride. The blue eyes of the Headmaster were calm, but also pleading in a way. Pleading for Severus to put aside old animosities; fears of the mundane, fears of losing his status as a fearsome figure among the people of Hogwarts. Albus felt the unseen and unspoken battle that Snape waged with himself. The men had shared so many thoughts, explored so much in the ways of the mind of the most evil wizard alive, supported each other through the emotional turmoil of battle strategies, winning, losing, trying again. Knowing that Snape was so resistant to this newest project was difficult for Albus. Before, they had always been able to discuss, debate, and then settle the details easily, even if not in total agreement. The fact that Snape had come back around to voicing his severe displeasure of this idea again, and try to remove himself from it, was proof of his extreme agitation over it. Albus almost sighed out loud. They could, of course, place another in this role. But he stood by the belief that Snape was the best at the spy game. In the event that unforeseen difficulties arose, he would be the best man to deal with those, as well. Albus trusted no one else as much, to be able to make split second decisions and alter plans as necessary in the heat of battle. It was Snape who sighed. His shoulders dropped a notch, and his eyes lost a bit of their anger.

"Albus, perhaps 'off-center' is an accurate description regarding my state of mind. I am concerned that I will be unable to project the necessary more 'human' side of myself in this endeavor. You, more than anyone, know how closely I guard my emotional state. What if this role weakens me with regard to my role as Death Eater? What if _he_ calls in the midst of it? Do you have any idea how much damage can be done if, in a moment of my weakness, he sees what it is we are doing? He would most likely go after Muggle-borns with more malice than ever before. Knowing we are infiltrating Muggles will make him wish to harm them all the more." He paused in his speech, thinking that he was saying aloud more of his emotional thoughts than he ever let loose. He did not like this feeling of vulnerability, even with Albus, with whom he had shared mental closeness for the last decade and a half. It left him even more than off-center; it made him feel weak.

Dumbledore continued to gaze calmly at Snape for another long moment. His voice was soft, but firm when he continued, "I understand how you must be feeling now, Severus. Do you not see that the difficulties you anticipate reinforce the fact that you are the best man for this job? I cannot see any other in the Order being a success in this role of Muggle teacher. You alone have proven to me time and again how well you adapt to sudden changes in your surroundings." He paused then added, "With the possible exception of accepting the help of the Trio."

Snape scowled at Dumbledores use of his pet name for referring to Potter, Weasley, and Granger. "You did not see that list the _Trio _came up with. I cannot fathom what Muggle entertainment has to do with teaching Muggle-borns, for instance."

"Muggle forms of entertainment are quite different from our own. It is a vastly important part of their world, and I doubt that whatever you do will make much headway into it. However, it is reasonable to see that a basic understanding of the culture should include an overview of personal experience." Dumbledore let his twinkling eyes be warm upon this man he considered almost a son. "Besides, Severus. You do not often avail yourself of wizard entertainment. So, at this point, you cannot honestly say that you have much in the way of _any_ experience regarding how entertainment might affect the lives of young people."

Snape drew himself up and raised his eyebrows in affront. "When one's life is full of the kinds of drama and intrigue mine has been, there is no need for entertainment. The very thought that my life might end in the next instant is quite enough _entertainment_," He finished with a sneer.

"But Severus, entertainment is, I believe, meant to be a respite from that kind of stress in life. It is meant to help one relax." Dumbledores' eyes continued to twinkle. Then he laid a hand on the Potion Masters' arm. "Can you not try to let the Trio help you prepare? I truly believe that their aid will be invaluable."

After willing himself not to shrug off the Headmasters touch, Snape finally nodded his head. "I suppose their insight might be helpful. I just do not enjoy them believing they know more than I do regarding my proper preparation."

The twinkling eyes were joined by a victorious smile when the Headmaster replied, "But Severus…despite your misgivings…they _do_."


	8. Chapter 8

_**A/N: When I had to add the last addition it came out as Ch. 7; that's why it was so short. This Ch. Will probably come up as 8 when it is actually 7. Later on, I'll combine two chapters to get the sequence matching again. **_

Chapter 7 Gryffindor vs. Slytherin

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were sitting in the Gryffindor common room, working silently on homework essays when the Floo emitted a rolled up parchment. Harry caught it as it floated in the air towards them. Looking at the script along the side, he said, "It's for The Trio." He looked up at Ron and Hermione. "I guess that's us."

"Well, open it up, then. Let's hear it. But if it's more detention from that foul teacher, I will go straight to Dumbledore," Hermione said scathingly.

Harry unrolled the parchment and read silently for a moment. With a small grin, he said, "It's from Dumbledore. He wrote,

_**Please come to my office tomorrow after breakfast. We will be discussing what further measures are required to complete your detentions with Professor Snape.**_

_**Sincerely,**_

Professor Dumbledore." 

Hermione's face reddened and they heard her growl low in her throat. "I don't believe it. He's going to make us keep trying to work with Snape! And Snape is being so unappreciative and surly! I wish we had never agreed to this!" She gathered her books, quills and uncompleted homework parchments and stormed up to the girls' dormitory.

Harry and Ron looked at each other for a moment, before shrugging and settling back to their own work. Ron muttered, "_I _wish he had waited until she had helped us with these History essays before he set her off again."

Hermione was silent in the Great Hall during breakfast. The boys knew better than to try to cajole her into a better mood. The way they figured it, that job was Dumbledore's or Snapes's. When they saw the Headmaster rise from his seat at the head table, they finished their breakfast and gathered their things to leave. Dean and Seamus called out, "Still in detention, you lot?" "How much more time, you reckon?"

Ron and Harry just shrugged in reply, but Hermione stalked out with her nose in the air as if she hadn't heard them.

They waited at the base of the stone staircase that lead up to Dumbledore's office.. It always seemed embarrassing to throw out so many kinds of sweet names before hitting on the correct password. Harry had told them that he believed Dumbledore knew exactly when someone was at the foot of his stairs, as well as who, and enjoyed hearing all the tries the visitor made in their attempt to gain admittance. Sure enough, after a minute or two, without a word from them, the guardian gargoyles stepped aside and the staircase began spiralling upwards. They jumped on, and allowed the steps to carry them right to the office door. It opened before them and they entered. Dumbledore and Snape were already seated. The list that Hermione had made out was on the desk in front of Dumbledore. Both men regarded them with solemn expressions. Snape stood up and indicated the three other chairs in front of the Headmaster's desk. As soon as Hermione was seated, he resumed his own seat. Dumbledore was silent and turned his eyes on Snape. Snape, in turn, took a deep breath before beginning.

"I feel an apology is in order, Miss Granger-"

"An apology! I do not owe you an apology, Professor! And if you think-" she began hotly.

"_I_ owe _you_ an apology, Miss Granger." Snape interrupted her tirade. She sat gaping at Snape, clearly unsure that she had heard correctly. Harry and Ron had their own mouths open in shock and were looking back and forth between Hermione, Snape, and Dumbledore.

Snape waited until he was certain Hermione had heard him and then, "I owe you an apology for my reception of your well thought out outline." His eyes remained unreadable, but he stood up to pace the floor before he continued. "I find myself in need of the expertise you possess in order to ready myself for this mission. If you could find it in yourself to oblige, I would be appreciative."

The silence was heavy in the room for a very long moment. Harry was the one who finally cleared his throat and spoke up, "Um, Professor, we know it's probably hard to ask for help from kids, especially us. I know you think we'll make it difficult for you, but we really do want to help. Hermione and I both know what it means to find out you're not a freak, but a wizard. We know how hard it to understand a whole new way of living."

Ron added, "Yeah, I don't like to think how awful it will be to stop using magic. Harry and Hermione are used to doing things the Muggle way when they're away from Hogwarts. I don't get to use magic, either, but my family still does things with magic when I'm at home." He shook his head, " I just don't get how they put up with how long it takes to cook and clean and get from place to place-"

"Thank you for your insight, Mr. Weasley," Snape drawled. "I have no intention of giving up magic while I undertake this assignment."

"But it's not the same, Professor." Hermione seemed to have forgotten and forgiven quickly. "Muggles will not be accepting of seeing you do magic in the classroom, at all. I mean, Harry and I had to adjust, because we are magical, and after finding it out, we knew we would be learning it. But Muggles, in a Muggle school, they will be in a panic if they see you –"

"I did not mean that I would be doing magic in front of them, Miss Granger. But I will be able do use my abilities unobtrusively, and I intend to do so."

"But won't that be very confusing to you, to keep going back and forth between when you can and when you can't? Seems like you'd get mixed up and forget to not wave a wand to write on the board, or _Accio_ a book- " Ron began.

"I do believe I have had sufficient practice in playing a dual role that I can navigate the changes involved, Mr. Weasley." Snape's eyes swivelled over to Hermione. "Then, you agree to continue to participate in this?"

Hermione looked at him for what seemed like forever. Her eyes were suspicious, as if she was leery of Snape's sudden about-face. She held his gaze for a long moment, searching for any hint of derision in him. Then she realized that even if he was resentful or angry about asking for their help, he was entirely capable of hiding it from them. He was, after all, a master spy. She was reluctant to repeat this scenario, yet again, if Snape decided to resist their best efforts at assistance. Did she dare to point this out? She definitely felt that asking for their help was a bitter thing for him; did he realize that it was just as bitter for them? Deciding to take the risk, she finally allowed, "If you can swallow your own pride to let us help, I suppose we can swallow ours to do whatever you are willing to allow us to do in return."

Snape sniffed and returned her stare. He thought her comment about his pride was impertinent. But she was right that this was a difficult thing, accepting that he needed help from Gryffindor whelps. In that spirit, he couldn't help but reply, "Your Gryffindor bravery at aiding a superior Slytherin is indeed overwhelming."

"Superior?-" Harry sputtered, before Dumbledore interrupted him.

"Yes, well, at last we reach a mutual agreement. I trust that from here on out, any differences of opinion and ideal will be worked out in a friendly, non-confrontational way?" A slight pause, as this pointed admonition sank into all of them. "Excellent. In that case, I know that you will also be able to reach a decision about how best to proceed from here on out. Time does grow ever shorter until our last school term ends and a summer term begins at the school I have chosen."

This news was met with all eyes turning to the Headmaster. Even Snape was slow to hide his surprise. It was quickly shuttered and he drawled, "And do you plan to tell us more of this school you have seen fit to send me to, Headmaster?" Even with his tone being low and even, it was obvious that he felt he should have been told of this before the students in the room.

Dumbledore pulled out a paper brochure and passed it over to Snape. The paper was a shiny, slick Muggle type, which was tri-folded. Snape snapped it open and quickly perused the unmoving pictures of the Muggle campus. The hard lines of his mouth grew even harder as he read the description of the school.

"Remedial courses, as well as accelerated courses, I see. I trust that I will be teaching the accelerated course of chemistry?" He lifted piercing eyes to Dumbledore.

Dumbledore's eyes had not lost their twinkle. It seemed he was very much enjoying this last bit of information. "I'm afraid that due to the small number of students, your class will include both remedial and accelerated students, Professor." As Snape's expression grew thunderous, he finished, "I am certain that the combined efforts of Gryffindor bravery and Slytherin cunning will help to ready you for the challenge?"

He clapped his hands and actually rubbed them together, as if in anticipation. "Now, if you will all excuse me, I have several other matters that require my attention."

Everyone stood when Dumbledore stood, and he ushered them from his office quickly and efficiently. When the door closed behind them, the tall Slytherin Potions Master stood, as shocked at his dismissal as the trio of Gryffindors were of theirs. They all looked at each other silently before Hermione opened her mouth to speak. But at the even more menacing expression than the one Snape usually wore bore down on them, she closed her mouth and turned to walk down the stairs. The boys followed her without comment, before Harry turned back at the foot to look up at him.

"Professor Snape, shall we meet you in the Room of Requirement this evening?" He waited until the man standing alone at the top of the stairs nodded curtly. Then he turned to follow his friends.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 8 Lovely and Enlightening

Hermione carried her book bag when they went up to the Room of Requirement that evening. Snape was again waiting for them when they arrived. He had the brochure open before him on the table, as well as the parchment list that Hermione had written previously. He looked up as they came in the door and motioned them into their seats. Without further mention of the morning's meeting with Dumbledore, he began, "Perhaps we should spend some time with Mr. Potter and Miss Granger telling me about what they remember a Muggle school being like. I confess that the description in this brochure makes everything sound rather bland."

"Well, it is an advertisement of sorts, isn't it? They want it to sound positive don't they? They're not likely to come right out and tell parents, 'send us your hopelessly failing child and we will try to stuff their empty head with knowledge'." Harry smiled.

Hermione looked at him coolly. "Professor Snape mentioned that accelerated students were included as well. That means there will be students who are motivated to succeed on their own."

"Yes, 'Mione. We do know what accelerated means, you know," Ron spoke up.

Snape sighed and interrupted them before they could continue, "I realize that my earlier behaviour may have set you on edge. However, let us put that aside for the time we are in this room. The Headmaster is correct in that we have much to do in little time. With that in mind, I will attempt to keep to the task at hand, if you all will do so, as well." He looked each one of them in the eye. For Snape, he was speaking very calmly and almost in normal tones.

When they had all nodded, Hermione spoke up again, "Professor, an owl came with this after I had left the Great Hall this morning. It's the books I asked my father to send for you." She pulled the books from her book bag and handed them to Snape.

He looked at the three titles: _Highlights of Organic Chemistry: An Advanced Textbook, A Textbook of Physical Chemistry, and __An Intermediate textbook of physiological chemistry with experiments_. After glancing at the table of contents of one of the books, he looked up at Hermione. "I am certain these will help me teach the subjects adequately. Thank you. I will send an owl to your father as well thanking him for his assistance."

"My parents want to help. As a matter of fact-" She hesitated, as if unsure that she wanted to proceed. "They asked if you would want to come to dinner next weekend. Mum said that seeing a Muggle family in its natural setting might be helpful."

"You wrote to your parents about what I needed the books for then?" he asked.

"Well, yes, sir. That was okay, wasn't it?" Hermione asked anxiously.

Snape regarded her for a moment, his fingers unconsciously tracing over the engraved title on the cover of the top book in his lap. "I'm sure that no harm has been done. However, please use discretion in the future. We do not know all the ways the Dark Lord may be watching, as concerns half-bloods and Muggle-born students." After another few moments of thought, he added, "You may inform them that dinner would be lovely."

Ron silently mouthed the word _lovely_ in disbelief. Harry tried hard to keep a straight face and Hermione beamed with delight.

After that, he settled back and listened as Harry and Hermione reminisced about Muggle school. It was easier than he expected; he had to ask few questions with Ron sitting there. Ron asked about everything they said, with no end to his disbelief. Snape was rather glad that he had allowed Weasley to participate, as this allowed him to remain apart and yet observant. There was no need for him to look inept or ignorant about anything, as long as Weasley was asking for all the clarifications to aid their understanding. The time they had drew to a close, and they all stood.

Snape inclined his head at them. "Thank you all for this most enlightening 'detention'. I look forward to tomorrow evening." With that, he turned and left the room in his customary billow of black robes.

Now that they had come to terms, the evenings passed easily and productively. The four of them seemed to have reached a place where they could at least temporarily put animosities aside for the greater good. Snape even found himself enjoying the tales of Muggle teachers and students and had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself from smiling in response. While Harry had the expected stories of bullies and schoolyard altercations, he had also been a fairly good student academically. Most of his problems appeared to have been caused by his cousin Dudley, and that one's promise to pound anyone who dared to be Harry's friend either in school or out. Hermione had been an exceptional student in her Muggle school, much like she was at Hogwarts. While she didn't say as much, Snape concluded that she had found it difficult to make friends in that world, and as a result had developed her penchant for perfection in her schoolwork. She had been reading ahead of her level even back in her early primary school years. Finding out that she was a witch had been as much of a shock for her as it had been for Harry. Snape hid his own shock when he discovered just how cruel Harry's family had always been to him. It was unsettling to learn that he had been wrong about Harry being arrogant about his heritage, when in fact he had not even known he was a wizard until he'd been invited to Hogwarts. All the traits Snape had chalked up to Harry's arrogance had been defensive walls thrown up by a boy who was thrust head first into waters well over his understanding. As for Hermione, the student he had always considered an insufferable know-it-all was just an insecure girl trying to make up for her lack of friends by immersing herself in books. The habit was well set by the time she arrived at Hogwarts, and one that he found he had unfairly belittled her for. The fact that he himself had been much the same in his own years as a student pricked his conscience.

8

By the time the weekend came around, they were focusing on other aspects of 'Muggledom', as Ron had taken to calling it. By far the most incredible to Snape and Ron was the area of food. While both Snape and Ron had heated up, or cooked food themselves over a stove or in a fireplace, they had availed themselves of magic to accomplish at least part of it. In Ron's case, he might have had to peel potatoes when his mum decided to make it a punishment, but the cooking itself was always done by his Mum and her wand. The food itself had mostly come out of their garden, and if not that, then from the nearby market in a Muggle village. Snape had grown up with house-elves supplying meals. When he cooked on his own, it was always with food provided by elves. Ron and Snape were both enthralled with stories of Muggle grocery markets.

Hermione looked at Harry at one point and asked him, "Do you think they can handle learning about can openers and mixers?"

"Electric or hand-held?" Harry quipped. "Don't forget about microwave ovens, when we talk about ovens. Oh, and pharmacies."

Ron stared at them as if he thought they were joking. "I've heard about electricity, you know. Dad finds it fascinating. He's brought home loads of Muggle stuff, and I don't recall ever hearing about 'mixers' or-- microwaves, did you call it?"

"No offence, Ron, but the stuff your dad has is usually useless to a Muggle, not to mention a wizard. You don't have electricity at the Burrow, even if your dad brought home something that wasn't broken." He said this gently, not wanting to cause embarrassment to his friend. Ron nodded to show he understood. Harry continued, "Microwave ovens are something Muggles came up with to cook faster. You put the food in and set a timer for however long it takes to cook what you put in. I'm not sure exactly what it does to do the cooking. The oven itself doesn't get hot, but the food does. I do know that people who have pacemakers aren't supposed to go near them when they're on, though. There's always a sign saying that wherever a microwave is."

"Pacemaker?" Snape asked with narrowed eyes. Now he looked as if he thought that Harry and Hermione might be playing them for fools.

Hermione hurriedly spoke up, "That's a device that Muggle doctors implant into a Muggle whose heart isn't beating correctly, Professor. It just means that it makes the heart to keep up a proper pace or rhythm at times when it fails to do so."

Snape looked impressed with this piece of Muggle medical information, even if the thought of something foreign being 'implanted' in a person was wholly disgusting. "Perhaps, we will need to hear what you know of common Muggle maladies. It occurs to me that there will be much in that area that would be useful to know."

"It's on the list, sir. We just haven't gotten to it yet." She spoke with a bland voice, so as not to remind Snape too much of how he had insulted the list she had come up with.

Snape merely nodded. Then, as the evening had passed, he reminded them. "Tomorrow evening, we will Portkey to Miss Granger's home. Be in the Headmaster's office at six."

"We?" Harry and Ron looked at each other, and then at Hermione.

She smiled and grabbed their hands in excitement, "Oh, I forgot to tell you, it's been so busy … mum and dad asked you two to come as well, and Professor Dumbledore has said yes! You've never been to my home, so it'll be great fun to have you there!"

Harry and Ron smiled back at her. A glance at Snape said he didn't think too much of the idea, but he was reserving his opinion for the moment. The trio walked out of the Room of Requirement, leaving the silent professor to stare after them in deep thought.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 9 Dinner is served

When the trio arrived in the Headmaster's office on Saturday evening, they found a very different Snape waiting for them. They ogled him for some moments before he snapped, "Well, what is it? Is my attire inappropriate for the occasion?" He stood before them in black dress slacks and dark grey silk dress shirt. He had on a black silk tie that had a pattern of small silver snakes across it. His hair had been drawn back and gathered at the nape of his neck with another thin piece of silk. He was elegant, but subtle.

Hermione was the first to speak, "You look very nice, Professor. We've just never seen you without your teaching robes…"

"I thought that as I would not be wearing robes when I am teaching this summer, I should attempt to try my hand at Muggle dress. If you are certain that all is in order…"

"Oh yes sir. You look fine," Hermione assured him.

Ron was still staring, not at Snape's clothes, but at his hair. It looked clean, and very different from its usual lank strands. "Your hair looks…" At Snape's threatening expression, Ron blushed. "Cool, sir."

"_Cool_, Mr. Weasley?" Snape intoned darkly.

"He just means it looks alright, Professor," Harry hurried to explain.

Snape was not at all sure if they were being honest with him. He had spent no little time in deciding what to wear. After all, his usual attire took little thought each day. He knew that his appearance was threatening and often menacing. It pleased him to have that affect on his students. Not having on his teaching robes and being in a colour other than black was unsettling. Not that grey was very different, but still, it wasn't black, and before this evening, he had not been aware of how much the colour was a part of him. It was his persona. It was what he wanted to project to those around him. He realized that it was a wall of sorts that he used to shield himself from unwanted attention.

He returned their stares without further expression. They were wearing casual clothes, also without the addition of school robes. Deciding that they were as ready as they could be, he held out an old ladies handbag. They each placed a finger on the bag and Snape muttered, "Popcorn."

In moments, they were standing in the middle of the Granger's living room. Hermione squealed and ran into the embrace of her parents. Then turning, she said, "Mum, Dad, this is Professor Severus Snape. Professor, my parents, Dr.'s Martin and Ellen Granger."

Snape shook hands with Hermione's father and then her mother. "It is a pleasure to meet you both. Thank you for opening your home to me."

"It is our pleasure, we assure you, Professor," Hermione's mother said softly. She smiled and added, "Please call us Martin and Ellen. It tends to be confusing when we are both called Dr. Granger."

Snape smiled in return and bowed slightly to Ellen. "You must call me Severus, then."

Martin and Ellen turned to the boys. Martin shook each of their hands and then clapped Ron on the back. "Well, well. You have both certainly shot up since we saw you off on the train last Fall. How is it going with Quidditch?"

If Snape was surprised that a Muggle would know about Quidditch, he hid it well. But Martin looked at him and offered an explanation anyway. "Hermione has told us all about Quidditch. Being a big sports fan myself, I can't tell you how I wish I could see one of those matches! But she has also explained about all the spells and charms that prevent us ordinary chaps from seeing it."

Ellen threaded her arm through her husbands lovingly. "Yes, dear. I'm sure we need yet another sport that takes up your telly viewing time and your weekends, as well."

Martin had the grace to look chagrined and agreed, "I suppose you're right. If I get involved in any other sports, I'd never get caught up in my trade journal reading."

"Or be able to finish your case studies submission to the journals, Dad," Hermione piped up. She was clearly proud of her parents, and as they returned her affectionate smile, Snape could see that they were proud of their daughter. It appeared to be a comfortable relationship. There was no fear about what their daughter was, only love and acceptance.

Ellen spoke to all of them then. "Dinner will be ready in about fifteen minutes. If you would like to take the time to show your Professor around, Hermione, I'm sure he will find our Muggle home interesting."

What Snape continued to find interesting was the ease with which they used words that were surely not commonplace for them. They didn't make a show of it, but it was evident that they were concerned for the comfort of their guests. It was graciousness at its best. Snape could easily forget that he had only just met them. The thought bothered him because it seemed like he should be more on guard and found it difficult to be suspicious.

He followed Hermione as she led Harry, Ron, and himself up the stairs. She was smiling and animated in a way that Snape had never seen her. Harry and Ron didn't seem to be surprised by her demeanour, so he supposed that this was just a part of her he had never seen. She stopped inside a bedroom, "This is my room. I know, I know, it's a girl's room, after all. I just thought that Ron and Professor Snape would be interested to know that not all bedrooms are in Gryffindor or Slytherin colours." Hermione's room was in soft golden yellows and peach. It was not a surprise to see one wall devoted to books. There were other feminine touches in the lace and ribbons that adorned the bedclothes and curtains. The bed itself was half covered with stuffed animals and decorative pillows. Hermione bounced down on the end of the bed and scooped up a pillow with rose pattern embroidered across its top. "Mum made this for me when I was born." She hugged it to herself. "It's the first thing I pick up when I get home each break. It reminds me that I really am home at last." She noticed that they were all looking at her. "Anyway, Professor, you should know that most girls are silly about things like this. Even if they won't always admit it, girls like stuffed animals, and other huggable things like pillows. We don't like to be reminded that we're silly, of course. We do prefer to be noted for our intellect."

Ron snorted. "Tell that to Lavender, why don't you. She's really nauseating sometimes when she's so silly. It's hard to think she has any brains at all when she gets like that."

Hermione frowned at him. "Well, I've noticed that sometimes girls will be silly to try and get attention … not that I've done it … but they seem to think it makes them more attractive or something."

Harry looked up at Snape. His expression was unreadable, but he didn't look disgusted or bored out of his mind, at least. He seemed to be taking it all in. Harry couldn't help but worry if Hermione's honesty would be used against her in the future. She sure was supplying Snape with lots of ammunition, if he had any plans along those lines.

Hermione seemed to realize the same thing at about the same time. She blushed and tried to laugh off the embarrassment. "Come on back downstairs. That's enough of my personal revelations. And I better not hear about anything being repeated around the common room, you two." She threw a pointed look at both Ron and Harry.

Ron took exception. "Hey! How about Sn- I mean Professor Snape here? Aren't you worried he might tell your secrets to his little Slytherins?

Hermione looked up at Snape and regarded him coolly. "No. I trust him to be discrete. I think we all share information we would rather not be shared outside this group"

Snape returned her look and then gave a slight nod of his head to show they understood each other. Snape seemed to be at ease with Martin, and spent the evening in soft conversation with him. Hermione looked a little nervous about this, but she spoke quietly to Ellen and seemed reassured.

When her mother was clearing the dishes, Hermione talked with Harry and Ron in the living room. "Mum says Dad is determined that they help us all they can. They wish they were able to do more to be helping me with school, you know. They're at a disadvantage, not knowing how, in spite of all their years of education. I think they feel that this is a way of finally being there for me … in more ways that just words."

"Well, Snape sure seems to be getting on with your dad," Harry spoke up. "He's almost … human."

"Snape?" Ron smirked. "Human? Not bloody likely."

"Ron, you've got to realize that he's not who we've thought all this time," Hermione chided gently. "He's always been on our side. All the rest is a front."

"Some front. He sure takes advantage of it to be vile to all of us, especially Harry, most of the time."

The three sat for a while, watching a Muggle comedy show on the television. Ron was enraptured. Harry and Hermione laughed at all the jokes, but Ron would just look at them askance. Harry shrugged. "Sorry, mate. It's Muggle humour. Guess you had to have grown up with it to understand it well."

Martin, Ellen and Snape came into the room for the last few minutes of the show. Snape kept a straight face, which made Hermione think he didn't get it any more than Ron had. When it was over, Snape stood up. "We need to get back. Thank you, once again," Snape gave a small bow to the Grangers, "for your hospitality."

Ellen took Snape's hand in hers and said warmly, "Our home is always open to you. We'll do this again, shall we?"

Snape nodded with a closed-mouth smile. Then he turned to the teens. Hermione had picked up the old handbag. After giving her parents a quick good-bye hug and kiss, she held out the bag. Four people Portkeyed back to the office of the Headmaster.

Before they Flooed back down to the dungeons, Snape commented, "I'm certain you don't need the reminder, but watch what you say and do around any other students. I've been hearing some suspicions among the Slytherins regarding your detentions and how long they are lasting."

"Yeah, the Gryffindors are starting to ask a few questions, too. What else can we say?" Harry asked.

Snape regarded them silently. Then, "I'm afraid the illusion of my continuing dissatisfaction with you must continue. While I do not wish to cause you to do poorly on your OWLs, it is imperative that it look like we-"

"Hate each other?" Harry spoke quickly.

Snape sneered, "Hate is a strong emotion, Mr. Potter. I do not hate you. While I have not found myself relishing your company, it has not been distasteful. The _appearance_ of hate is useful, however."

He indicated the fireplace, and they Flooed down to the Potion Master's quarters. From there, the trio said goodnight.

They did not see the figure hiding in the dungeon shadows as they made their way from there back to the Gryffindor Tower.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 10 - After Dinner Meant…

…everything was back to its usual state. If the trio thought that classes with Snape might be better following dinner with the Grangers, they were sadly mistaken. They were set straight the moment they walked into the Potions classroom. While Hermione had managed to complete the essay Snape had assigned the week before, Harry and Ron had done nothing. As the other students took their parchment rolls up and laid them on Snape's desk, they looked at each other in horror. Before, they had always managed to patch something together, or got some help from Hermione. When she walked back from the front of the room, Ron looked at her accusingly. She rolled her eyes and whispered, "Why didn't you do it on Friday?"

"Quidditch practice." they both whispered together.

She rolled her eyes again, knowing that they could have done it after practice, but had probably stayed up playing wizard chess or talking Quidditch strategy all night, instead.

Harry whispered, "You always remind us … why didn't you?"

"OWLs study group. I didn't even see you after your practice, remember?"

A deep mocking voice interrupted their conversation. "I seem to be missing your essays, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley." Snickering erupted from the Slytherin side of the room. Draco Malfoy was especially gleeful, as his grinning face clearly showed his enjoyment of their discomfort. Snape continued when they didn't make a move to come forward, "Is it your intention to keep us waiting for them all day?"

Ron cleared his throat. "Well, sir, we thought that as we've been spending so much time with you in detention, you'd understand that we didn't have time-"

"Miss Granger appears to have found the time, Mr. Weasley." Snape's voice was hard and cold.

Harry decided that perhaps forthrightness was best. "We forgot about the essay, sir. Time just got away from us. We'll turn it in tomorrow."

"You most certainly will not, Mr. Potter. A zero then, and extra detention. _Again_." His black eyes were clearly challenging them to respond somehow.

Ron jerked upright at his words, but Hermione laid a hand over his under the table. Ron's mouth snapped shut on the comments he had been about to make. Instead, his face burned crimson, and the muscle in the side of his jaw was twitching with the efforts to keep his response from bursting out.

Snape kept staring pointedly at them until they both finally muttered, "Yes, Professor."

After class, the three made their way outside, walking towards the lake. Ron was in a rage. "You'd think he would give us a break, with all we're doing for him! It's not fair!"

"Is it?" Hermione responded softly. "It was an assignment, Ron. If we don't do them, it will only make things suspicious, if Snape doesn't call you on it. This is our OWLs year. No matter what else is going on, you still have to be ready for it." She stopped Ron with a gentle hand on his arm. "What you do with the rest of your life will likely be decided by how well you do on your OWLs."

Ron looked down at her for a moment and then took the hand on his arm into his own hand. His voice was calmer when he responded. "Would one little essay make such a difference?" He dropped into the grass under a tree at the waters edge, pulling her down to sit beside him. Pulling up a blade of grass, he stuck it in his mouth as he thought.

Hermione sat silently. She knew that it wasn't easy for them to always be on the receiving end of Snape's vindictiveness. He had always made a point of favouring his Slytherin students over the other houses. Harry and Ron were his favourite targets. She knew that her own work gave Snape cause to be scathing, but it wasn't because it was lacking. It was more because he was irritated that she did exceptional work and was not in Slytherin. Even though it hurt when Snape derided her intelligence, it was somehow a backhanded compliment, too. She supposed it was because she was Muggle-born, and not a pure-blood, as well. She just wasn't _supposed _to be as smart as she was.

Ron finally looked up at Harry, who had been silent the entire time. He was kicking at tufts of grass at the shoreline. "You haven't said anything, Harry. And in class, you took the blame for not doing the essay … what is it, mate?"

Harry walked back to them and dropped into the grass beside them. Resting his elbows on his knees, he leaned his head into his hands and rubbed at the scar on his forehead.

Hermione reached out a hand to him. "Harry? Is your scar hurting again? Are you feeling-_him_?"

"I don't know." He sighed. "It's not hurting exactly … it's like quick twinges … not constant pain." He flopped back onto his back with an arm across his eyes. After a few moments he continued, "It's almost like he's searching for something, but he doesn't want me to know he's searching. He's trying not to let it hurt, so I won't realize he's there … weird, huh?"

Ron snorted in disbelief. "_Not_ trying to hurt you? Yeah, I'd say that's weird. When has he ever _not_ tried to hurt you?"

Hermione was staring at Harry intently. "Maybe you need to tell Dumbledore or Snape. It could be something important."

He removed his arm to look over at her. "Tell them what? 'My scar is sort of hurting, but not really, sir.' I don't think they'd appreciate my whining much."

"But it's not whining, Harry. You're saying this is something different than usual. If _he_ _is_ searching for something, don't you think Dumbledore needs to know about it?"

Harry just shrugged. "Maybe. It is different, just since we've been doing our detentions with Snape. But I don't know if it's connected." He sat up then and pulled up his own blade of grass to pick apart. "I do wonder what Voldemort would do if he knew what Snape was doing for Dumbledore. I mean, do you think he has to tell Voldemort some kind of truth about what he does for Dumbledore? Just to keep up the appearance of being a spy against Dumbledore?"

"I'm still not sure it's just appearance," Ron grumbled. "Maybe Snape just wants Dumbledore to _believe_ he's on our side, and when he tells Voldemort he's on _his_ side, he really _is_."

"That's an awful thought, Ron," Hermione breathed. "In fact, I don't think I can bear to think about it! If Snape is really not on our side, and he's been in _my_ home, with my _parents_…" Her face was pale and her lips were trembling.

Ron quickly threw his arms around her, pulling her into a hug. "I'm sorry, 'Mione. I really don't think that. I just don't like the great black bat of a git. I'm sure he really is on our side. Dumbledore is the smartest wizard of our time. He wouldn't be fooled if Snape weren't on the up and up." Hermione gently untangled herself from his embrace and smiled at him. Ron kept his arm around her and looked at Harry again. "But still, Harry, why did you just admit it about the essay? You just took the blame."

Harry looked at Ron steadily. "We didn't do it. We did forget about it. It was my fault that I didn't do mine, whatever you choose to think about your own, Ron."

Leaning down on one elbow, Ron said scornfully, "Seems like Snape could be a bit more flexible, considering-"

"And give away that we're working with him? And not against him like all the Slytherins believe? Yeah, Malfoy would like to have that little piece of information, alright," Harry reminded him. He looked unflinchingly at Ron until Ron looked away.

Sighing with exasperation, Ron said, "I know you're right. I just don't _want_ you to be right." Looking at Harry curiously, he added, "Looks to me like you're starting to trust Snape almost as much as Dumbledore does."

Harry did look away then and pulled at the grass some more. Hermione spoke up then, "I hate to admit it, but I do trust him a little more now." She looked at both boys anxiously, as if afraid of what their response would be to her statement.

Harry kept his gaze on his hands and then nodded in agreement. "Yeah. More now. Not completely … but more."

The three of them sat silently now, each absorbed in their own thoughts. The sun sparkled on the water and occasionally there would be a splash as something leaped up out of the lake. Just as quickly, a long tentacle would flick up and capture it, much as a frog's sticky tongue might flick out to capture its prey.

Hermione finally stood up. With a tired sigh she said, "I have an OWLs study group meeting in the west courtyard in five minutes. You'd both do well to come. I know Quidditch practice isn't until later, and you know the effort will pay off at exam time." With that, she started back towards the castle without waiting for their reply.

Ron squinted after her. "I think she expects us to follow her."

Harry noticed that Ron hadn't agreed with them about trusting Snape. He almost asked, but then decided that Ron would have to reach his own conclusions in his own time. He stood up and extended a hand to his friend. "Come on. Let's go try to stuff some useful knowledge into our heads. She's right. We should be more serious about the OWLs."

Ron sighed and shook his head. "Alright, alright." He let Harry heave him to his feet. "Let's get it over with."

In the shadows of a castle window, an unseen figure in black watched the trio. Dark eyes narrowed in concentration, seeking for any thoughts that might stray from their direction.



Chapter 11: Hated Friend

Between classes, OWLs study group, Quidditch practice, homework, and 'detention time', the three friends wondered how they ever found time to eat and sleep. Both Harry and Ron were determined to complete every homework assignment for every class. This obvious effort on their part went a long way to get Hermione to lend them a hand when they asked for help. She proofread essays and quizzed them on review material before tests. During 'detention time', Snape never mentioned their regular classes or assignments, including his own. But his demeanour was markedly different at these times; he seemed to be friendlier, or more relaxed then.

Hermione did ask about it, somewhat hesitantly, at their next detention. "Sir, I hope you don't think me presumptuous-"

"Which no doubt indicates that you are about to be just that," Snape remarked dryly.

Hermione's cheeks flushed. "Well, sir, you just seem so different when we're in class - I mean, here you're sort of friendly, and in class, you're …"

Snape sat regarding her silently, his eyes glimmering darkly. If one didn't know better, it would seem he was amused. When she seemed unable to complete her observation, she looked to Ron and Harry for help. Ron just looked at her and shook his head, as if to say, 'This is your can of worms you just opened; I'm not going to get in the middle of it.'

Harry shrugged in his characteristic way. To his way of thinking, there was no way anything he could say would possibly cause Snape to hate him any more than he already did. He didn't have anything to lose. "What she means is you're tolerable when we're in here, doing this. Outside, you still make us miserable, acting like the black bat from hell that everyone thinks you are. What gives?"

"Harry!" Hermione gasped in shock. "I was not about to say that!"

He shrugged again. "You were thinking it. We all were." Then he sat there looking at Snape expectantly. Ron was sitting there with his mouth open, clearly unsure whether to deny Harry's statement, or add to it. Hermione was casting her eyes all around as she desperately tried to think of something to say. To their utter amazement, the next sound was as unexpected as it would be if Draco Malfoy suddenly professed himself loyal to Dumbledore.

Snape laughed. Not a little chuckle of dry amusement or derision, but a full-chested, head-thrown-back laugh that had the trio sitting with their jaws agape.

His laughter lasted for a good two minutes, in which time the trio began looking at each other as if wanting to escape from this deranged Snape even more than the Potions Master they had grown to hate through the years.

Finally, he stopped, although there was still a hint of amusement in his eyes. "I can see that this is uncomfortable for you. Truly, I do not find myself needing to express myself thus very often."

"That's good," muttered Ron under his breath, rubbing himself on the chest. "Don't think my heart could take it again. That's creepy, it is."

"Like me," Snape intoned.

Ron had already started nodding in agreement before he realized how that looked. Just as quickly, he shook his head. "No, sir! I didn't mean that."

"No matter, Mr. Weasley. My self-esteem is quite safe from your low opinion of me." Now he was looking at them solemnly. "It occurs to me that we will make more progress in preparation if we keep it separate from the classroom. Antagonism can only hinder us. In here, we are … _friends,_ of a sort, working together towards a common purpose. Due to circumstances, outside this room, we are students and hated teacher." His honesty at spelling out the way they felt about him in the classroom had them agape again. He continued, "I do not expect our appearances to others in Hogwarts to change. In fact, it must not. That is why my demeanour towards you must not change, nor my expectations in class."

No one said anything as he or she all thought this through. Although they were silent, Harry thought _friends_ was a little too presumptuous on Snape's part. He thought _tolerable_ was still a better term. He realized that he was staring into Snape's eyes as he thought this. _Can he read my mind? Does he know how Voldemort is trying to take peeks into it, too?_ He saw Snape's eyes widen in surprise then. _I guess you can_, he thought.

Snape gave a slight shake of his head, seeming to indicate that Harry should not mention this. Then he said, "One of you explain to me what this term means: over-the-counter-medication." Then he looked expectantly at them all. And like that, they continued to work on the list of Muggle terminology that Hermione had prepared.

At the conclusion of their session, Hermione told them that her parents had invited them again for the following Saturday evening. "I think dad has it planned for you to see a spot of Muggle sports on the telly."

Snape nodded his approval. "You may accept the invitation on our behalf."

Hermione smiled as they gathered up their things to leave. Yet another opportunity to spend time with her parents! Wonderful!

Snape spoke quietly when they went to the door, "A word, Mr. Potter?"

"Yes, sir." Harry had known since he had been thinking of mind reading that Snape would keep him afterwards.

"Shall we wait for you, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"No. You two go on. I'll be there in a bit," he answered.

Once they were gone, Snape turned to Harry. "Tell me about your scar hurting, Potter."

"It's not hurting-"

"Then explain your belief that the Dark Lord is –_taking_ _peeks_- I believe you were thinking." His voice was hard again.

Harry sighed. "It really isn't hurting, sir. Like I told Ron and Hermione, it's like little twinges … not pain. It's … almost a sneaky feeling, like he's not wanting me to know he's peeking." He looked up at the Potions Master. "It's not my imagination, either." He avoided saying that he thought Snape was being sneaky, by trying to see Harry's thoughts earlier. He knew it would dredge up snide remarks about his failure to learn Occlumency earlier in the school year.

'I was not about to say that it was, Potter. Why have you not told this to the Headmaster or myself?"

Harry gave another sigh. "Hermione said I should. But I thought it would sound like whining. Especially since it doesn't really hurt. It just feels different."

"How long has this been going on?"

"Since not too long after we began our detention sessions with you."

Snape looked at Harry thoughtfully. "Perhaps we should do more work on your ability to occlude."

"No offence, sir, but I really don't think I can squeeze in one more thing right now."

"Even if that thing will keep the Dark Lord out of your mind?" Snape asked darkly.

"Well, when you put it like that, I suppose I have no choice," Harry groaned.

So Harry and Snape sat back down. When Harry finally did get back up to Gryffindor Tower several hours later, Ron and Hermione were just about to come out.

"Where are you two going? It's well past curfew," Harry stated tiredly.

Hermione put her hands on her hips. "That's right, it is Harry. Where have you been? We were just about to head up to Dumbledore's office to tell him you were missing!"

"I told Snape about my scar twinging." He thought it better not to mention that Snape had seen this in his mind without Harry telling him anything. "We were discussing it."

"All this time?" Ron asked.

"He thinks I need to ratchet up my Occlumency. We started working on it again." Harry dropped into a cushy chair, rubbing his temples.

Hermione sat down then. "You must be exhausted, then. To do that on top of everything else today." At least she was sympathetic now.

Ron muttered, "He wasn't a git was he? After what you said, I mean?"

"No, he wasn't. He just wants me to be able to keep Voldemort out of my thoughts."

"So he thinks that's what is happening?" Hermione asked, a little anxious.

"I don't know. He didn't say for sure. I think he believes that Voldemort might be trying it this way to see if he can get more information, than if he tries it by outright bloody force." He leaned forward, dropping his head onto his knees. "I've got to go to bed. If I don't get up now, I'll have to sleep here tonight."

Ron held out his hand and when Harry took it, he pulled him to his feet. "Come on then. See you in the morning, 'Mione."

"Goodnight, Harry, Ron."

They all trudged up to their dormitories, more than ready to drop into their beds for some much-needed rest.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12: Another Muggle Evening

Hermione's parents had invited them again, this time for a casual evening that would include watching some Muggle sports on television. Ron was very excited about this, while Harry was indifferent. Snape made no comment other than a nod of acceptance. Hermione was thrilled to be getting yet another chance to see her parents.

When they were in the Gryffindor common room that Saturday afternoon, a few of their housemates expressed curiosity about what was going on. Snape had been repeating his warning not to tell anyone of their plans. Visiting family outside of holidays or family emergencies was not normally allowed. The Trio had to come up with another explanation for their absence that evening.

Harry finally told Neville, "Snape wants to make us as miserable as possible. So he's decided that instead of having the weekends to just relax, we have to study in the evening with him. Including during dinner."

"Oh, yuck!" Neville moaned. "Dinner with Snape? I wouldn't be able to eat a thing."

Seamus was looking at them questioningly. "He sure is making you do a lot … what was it again that earned you this kind of detention?

Hermione raised her chin. "Believe me, I prefer not to dwell on my mistakes. We just want to get it done to his satisfaction."

With that, the Trio walked down to the dungeons, where they Flooed up to Dumbledore's office. From there, they Portkeyed to the Grangers.

Everyone's mood brightened once they were there. The Grangers had a thoroughly Muggle evening planned. Martin was grilling steaks out in the backyard, and Snape joined him there. Ellen was finishing up dinner preparation in the kitchen, where Hermione headed. Harry and Ron wandered around the Granger's backyard. The lawn and garden were immaculate and lush. Ron kept peering into the shrubs and under plants.

Harry finally asked, "What are you looking for?"

"Garden gnomes," Ron muttered as he looked into the leaves of another rose bush.

"I thought they were only found in magical gardens." Harry frowned. The thought that he might have missed the ugly creatures during all the summers he'd spent weeding the Dursley's gardens made him feel somehow less than observant.

"Well, that's what Mum and Dad say, but I just thought I'd take a look anyway. Maybe there's enough magic from when 'Miones here to attract them."

They looked around for a while longer before giving it up as a lost cause. They made it back around to where Martin and Snape were standing at the grill. Martin was showing Snape how to gauge the doneness of the meat. Snape casually held a bottle of beer in his hand as he listened attentively.

The boys gaped for a moment at that before Ron spoke, "I don't think I've never seen my dad cook before."

Martin rolled his eyes. "Men don't cook, Ron. Men barbeque, or grill. There is a difference." Puffing out his chest a bit he continued, "We use fire and smoke to prepare food out of doors. This kind of cooking is our domain. No sissy pots and pans for us."

They looked at Snape, clearly concerned that he might take exception to Martin's statement. Instead, Snape nodded. "Yes. The use of the open flame does somehow seem more … masculine." He looked over at Harry and Ron, taking in their looks of doubt. "Are you worried that I might be equating the indoor brewing of potions with cooking, therefore putting it on a less than masculine plane?" When Harry nodded, Snape explained, "The ability for potion mastery is not strictly a masculine one. If you had paid attention in History of Magic, you would recall several Potion Mistresses in the last few centuries. I am not insecure in my own abilities. Whether I brew inside or out makes no difference. Perhaps you believe that flasks and cauldrons compare to _sissy_ pots and pans?" At their questioning shrugs, Snape sniffed dismissively. "That notion is idiotic."

Martin had been watching the exchange with amusement. He plated the steaks. "Let's get these inside. I bet the girls have everything else ready by now. He picked up his own beer and led the way into the house.

Once inside, Snape observed the family interaction playing out in front of them. Martin threw an arm around Hermione's shoulder and gave her an affectionate kiss on the forehead. "How are you doing, honey?"

"Really good, Dad. You know the OWLs are coming up soon. I feel pretty confident about most of my subjects." Hermione smiled up at her father.

Martin squeezed her in a hug. "No doubt in my mind. You'll ace them."

Hermione blushed to be complimented like this in front of her friends and teacher. Snape added to her embarrassment when he intoned, "You should be aware, Martin, that your daughter is highly regarded by her teachers for her academic excellence. She has obviously been raised to have a great respect for learning."

"Thank you, Severus." Ellen smiled. "It's always good to hear that others have a good opinion of one's child."

Hermione blushed even more, but she was unable to hide the smile of pleasure at the compliment paid by Snape. She busied herself with sitting down beside her mother. Once seated, everyone helped themselves from serving dishes as they were passed around.

Ron was a bit clumsy with holding the platter of meat and spearing his choice with a fork. When he felt eyes on him, he commented, "A bit tricky when they're not hovering on their own, isn't it?"

Hermione and Harry shrugged. They were used to going from magical to non-magical environments. Snape appeared to make the transition smoothly. At least, he did not let any awkwardness he felt show as he passed the platters of food around.

Martin steered the conversation towards sports. "There's a game on the television tonight. Would you like to watch a bit of it?"

Snape considered as he chewed a bite, and then nodded. After swallowing, he said, "I believe we can stay for a short while. When he saw that Hermione's face had fallen, he explained, "I do not wish to arouse suspicions if we are not found to be at Hogwarts."

He waited until all three teens had reluctantly nodded in agreement. Then indicating his plate, he looked back at Martin. "This is the best steak I believe I've ever had. It is unfortunate that the method of preparation is Muggle."

Hermione began to bristle, but before she could speak, her father laughed. She looked back and forth between him and Snape. Expecting Snape to be frowning, she was surprised to see what appeared to be a genuine smile, as if the men had shared an inside joke.

Harry commented, "There are things that are definitely better done the Muggle way. This is just one of them."

"Well said, Mr. Potter," Snape acknowledged. "Not all things should be accomplished with the flick of a wand. Some things do require a prolonged period of time to prepare. This is obviously true in both worlds, as it applies to some potion brewing, as well."

"Kind of like Polyjuice Potion," Ron put in. "That takes a whole month." Snape looked at him with a raised eyebrow. Ron's face heated and he sputtered, "Or so I heard."

"Indeed," came the sardonic reply.

Breaking the new tension, Ellen stood up and asked brightly, "Anyone ready for dessert and coffee?"

Martin had been watching them all with amusement. He grinned. "How about we do that in front of the television, so you can see more of the game?" he suggested.

They moved to the family room where Ellen and Hermione brought plates of homemade pie and mugs of coffee. Martin and Harry attempted to explain the object of the game to Ron and Snape. Both of them seemed to be more intrigued with the personal interactions when the players got into fights over plays gone wrong.

Sometime later, Snape stood up. He held out a hand to Martin, "Thank you again for your hospitality. We should be going now."

"What!" Ron thundered. "The game's not over yet! I want to see the rest!"

"We discussed this, Mr. Weasley-"

"We didn't discuss anything! You decided all on your own that we'd leave early." Ron was fuming now.

"And we will do so," Snape growled at him.

Martin stood between them with a hand toward each. "Hey, now. No need to get worked up. I'll just record it, shall I?"

"Record?" Snape turned his head questioningly towards Martin, curious, in spite of his anger at Ron.

Hermione joined her father. "It's a Muggle term. It means he will save the rest of the game on a videotape for you to finish watching another time."

"Kind of like a Muggle Pensieve." Harry added, trying to clarify what videotape was. "You can come back and watch the rest, Ron. You won't miss any of it."

Ron seemed to realize how rudely he had spoken to his teacher. Avoiding the black glittering eyes, he muttered, "Sorry, sir. I guess I forgot myself for a moment."

"I would say so, Mr. Weasley," Snape agreed.

Quick goodbyes were said, and in a few moments, the four were back in Dumbledore's office. Snape regarded them all silently. He seemed about to say something before stopping himself and then sweeping out. The Trio followed, turning in the opposite direction at the base of the gargoyle staircase.

In a dark niche, eyes observed their exit from the Headmasters office with interest.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13: Pizza Party

In the coming weeks, Snape and the Trio spent almost every Saturday evening at the Granger's home, in the guise of continuing detention. The Trio found they had to work very hard at keeping up the appearance of being sick of their punishment, when in fact, they were immensely enjoying their weekends. They found that they were having fun even if they spent it in the company of the Potion Master. Martin Granger had seemed to form a close friendship with Snape that had a perplexed Hermione shaking her head as she gazed at them.

On this particular Saturday, the Grangers had brought out various Muggle board games. Ron kept rolling his eyes when he had to move his playing piece by hand, as he played Hermione's old Candy Land game with her. "Honestly, 'Mione, this is for babies, even the wizarding kind. At least that one gives you real candy when you land on a spot," he groused.

"I just want to play for old times sake, Ronald. This was my very favorite when I was little." She held up her small playing piece and gazed at it fondly. "I always got to be red."

Harry and Ellen were engaged in a game of Gin Rummy. Harry found it interesting to be playing with Muggle cards. It was pretty nice that the cards were just, well, cards. He was able to concentrate on the actual game instead of worrying whether the cards were going to snap at his fingers as he laid them down.

Martin and Snape appeared intent in a game of Muggle chess. Each man was leaning forward over the small table, chin resting in a hand as they contemplated the playing field. Occasionally, one would softly comment on the others' choice of move. Finally, Martin sat back when Snape intoned, "Check."

"Severus, I'll have you know that I am not usually that easy to beat. You play a mean game, my friend." Martin held out his hand to shake Snapes in congratulations.

""You are indeed the most worthy opponent I have faced in a long while. There were many times I believed you had gained the upper hand." Snape gave a gracious nod toward Martin. He looked down at the unmoving chess pieces, and then picked up a black knight to examine it closely. "It seems easier to concentrate on strategies when the game is not yelling out it's own suggestions and the pieces are not demolishing each other."

Harry looked at Snape in surprise, finding the black eyes on him. Snape gave him a slight nod to show that he had indeed realized that they were thinking along the same lines. Harry felt a bit disconcerted. He had been trying to keep up his occlusion, even here, but it seemed he was slipping. Was he too relaxed here? Was he endangering himself and his frinds? Snape stood and walked over to him. Laying a hand on his shoulder, he said quietly, "As Moody would say, 'constant vigilance, Mr. Potter'."

Harry nodded. With a small pat, Snape walked away. Harry watched him for a few moments. Who was this Snape? Harry wondered if Hermione and Ron were feeling as confused by this side of the Potion Master as he was. Sure, Snape had told them that their relationship would be different outside of Hogwarts, as they helped him ready himself for his foray into Muggle Summer School. But after so many years of seeing only the menacing, sneering, overbearing teacher, it was difficult to believe that this was the same man. He couldn't help but think that Snape had spent most of his life in deception; which Snape was the real one? The one that almost seemed to like Harry a little? Or the Snape that had never made secret his loathing of the son of James Potter?

Ellen stood up, too and her eyes were twinkling as she said, "We decided to let you have the honor of ordering the pizza, tonight, Severus."

He shook his head at that, but Hermione jumped up to join her mother. "That's a great idea. You can learn how to use the telephone and how to get pizza delivered at the same time."

She took Snape by the sleeve and tugged him over to the wall where the telephone hung. "Come on, Professor." From the kitchen counter she grabbed the advertisement for pizza. "Here's the number you will use when you call. First, we all have to decide what kind we want, then you can order."

There was a round of requests from the Grangers and Harry, but Ron and Snape just shook their heads. Ron said, "I never had it before, so I don't have any idea what to even ask for."

Snape eyed the advertisement with undisguised wariness. The unmoving picture of pizza, did nothing to pique his appetite.

Harry and Hermione both smiled and at the same time enthused, "You're going to love it!" "Pepperoni is the best!"

Once they had written down the toppings they wanted, Hermione handed the telephone receiver to Snape. He looked at it in his hand for a moment before looking back at her.

"Raise it to your ear, Professor." He did. "Do you hear that tone?" At his nod, she continued, "Now just press the numbers in the order they are written." Snape carefully punched in the telephone number. "Do you hear the different sound now?" He nodded again. "When it connects, someone will answer. You just tell them what we want. They will tell you how much it will cost and when it will be here."

Snape stood stiffly as he followed the instructions. When the person on the other end answered, he drew back a little from the receiver to regard it suspiciously. "I did not understand one word she said," he sneered disdainfully.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "They always talk too fast. Here." She stood on tiptoe to press her ear close beside his so she could hear as she pushed it back towards his ear as well. The female pizza person was repeating, "Hello, are you ready to order now? Hello?"

Hermione gave Snape a poke on the arm to get him going.

"Yes … I would like to order a … pizza."

"Yeah. Then ya called the right place, doll. Whatcha want?"

Snape tried to push the receiver towards Hermione, but she kept it firmly against his ear. She pointed to the piece of paper where Ellen had written what they wanted.

Snape read off the request. The pizza person repeated the order rapidly and Snape looked sideways at Hermione. He mouthed _What_?

She whispered, "She's asking if that's what you want."

"I still do not know what she said." He complained. Although he knew that they were trying to assist him in learning Muggle ways, he could not help despising the way the unfamiliar ways made him feel. The lack of control over his environment, unable to anticipate what was coming next, fueled his desire to walk away from it.

"Just say yes," Hermione encouraged with a nod.

The pizza person was again asking, "Hello? Are ya still there, doll? Is that all ya want?"

Snape replied slowly, "Yes, that is the order I wish to place." The picture he conjured in his mind of what the vile-sounding woman probably looked like had him sneering.

There was a laugh from the other end of the line. "Right, doll. Gee, I wish I was the one delivering it to ya. Ya sound like a right hunk of a chap, ya do."

Snape was reddening, even as Hermione had to cover her mouth to keep a giggle in.

The pizza lady ended the conversation with the total owed and the estimated delivery time. When Snape hung up the phone, he turned to find them all smiling at him. He struggled to push down the unaccustomed feeling of embarrassment. Drawing his shoulders up, he intoned darkly, "This _pizza_ better be worth the effort it takes to get it. That was a supremely unpleasant experience."

Harry smirked, "Coming from you, it must've been awful, if it was _that_ unpleasant."

Snape regarded him silently as he raised his chin and crossed his arms. The familiar stance was still intimidating to the Trio, but Martin just laughed out loud. "Come on Severus. Lets have a beer while we wait for your first pizza." He clapped Snape on the shoulder and drew him away to the kitchen.

The boys looked at Hermione. Ron whispered, "Why were you laughing 'Mione? What did they say that got to him?"

Shaking her head, Hermione whispered back, "I can't say, Ron! He'll kill me!"

"Oh, now you have to tell us!" Harry leaned forward. "Come on. Spill it."

When she shook her head again, Ron whined, "Hermione, it's _Snape_, for gosh sake. If you have something good on him, you should use it!"

"Ron, I would not want someone to use something embarrassing to get to me, so I refuse to do that to him." She frowned at him in disapproval.

Harry thought about what he had seen in the Pensieve earlier in the school year, the tormented younger Snape. All at once, he was not so keen to learn the details of what had just transpired over the phone. He looked at Ron and said solemnly, "She's right. Never mind."

Ron and Hermione looked at him questioningly and he shrugged. "We're supposed to be working with him, not against him, after all."

Ron didn't look happy, but he finally nodded in agreement.

A few minutes later, the pizza was delivered to the door. When Hermione tried to get Snape to answer the door to take it, he flatly refused to rise from the sofa where he sat holding his bottle of beer. Ron followed Hermione to the door and watched as she made the transaction.

Ellen had set the table and set out a variety of soft drinks for the teens to choose from. Ron looked them over with interest, as did Snape.

"Which is your favorite, Harry? That's what I want to try." Ron turned to Harry in question.

Harry was looking over the assortment. "I don't have one." Ellen handed him a glass of ice and Harry looked back at Ron. "I never got to drink soda at the Dursleys. Too much of an unnecessary expense, I think."

Hermione stepped into the awkward silence that resulted from his comment. "Try this one then. It's my favorite." She poured her selection into Harry's glass. Ron followed her example. Snape watched them for a moment before coming to examine the bottles.

He picked up one and read the listed ingredients. After doing the same for a few others he went back to the drink in his hand.

Martin was opening the pizza box and he spoke up, "We seldom allow those kinds of drinks, Severus." When Snape looked at him in question, he continued, "Not that they're dangerous, mind. They're just not very healthy for consumption all the time. There's too much sugar in the regular ones, and too much artificial stuff in all of them. Bad for the teeth, you know." His wife nodded in agreement and Hermione huffed in annoyance.

Snape agreed, "They do seem to consist mostly of useless ingredients. I fail to see the attraction."

Over the casual meal, the conversation was light, and although Snape allowed that pizza certainly would not be on his favorite meal list, it was not bad. In spite of how often she had been able to see her parents lately, Hermione was still distressed when it became time to leave. She hugged both of them tightly. OWLs were coming up in just ten days, and this would be the last visit until they were over.

Martin kissed his daughters forehead. "Good luck, honey. I know you'll do well."

"Thanks, dad," Hermione smiled up at him.

Ellen kissed her and murmured against her ear, "We're proud of you, baby. No matter how you do. We're very, very proud of you." Hermione looked at her mom a little tearfully, smiling at her, as well.

Snape and the Trio Portkeyed back to Dumbledore's office. When they arrived, the teens made to walk out the door.

Snape stopped them. "We should not have walked out of this office last time. You are supposed to be with me in the dungeons. You will Floo down to leave from there."

Ron complained, "That's a long walk, though, back to Gryffindor."

"I believe you will survive the journey, Mr. Weasley," Snape answered mockingly.

After Flooing to the dungeons, they were all startled by a knock on the door. Snape opened it to see Draco Malfoy standing there.

"Where have you been, Professor?" he asked with a sneer.

"As you can see, Mr. Malfoy, I am here." Snape replied levelly.

"Ah, but you haven't been. I've been knocking for quite some time."

The Trio looked at each other trying to mask their alarm. Snape narrowed his eyes at the Slytherin standing there. "Is there some sort of emergency, Mr. Malfoy? Or did you wish to join in the _Gryffindor_ detention session?"

"Is that what you were doing, sir? Having _detention_?" Draco was smiling in amusement.

Snape's voice was low and he bent towards the boy from his drawn up height, until he was six inches from his face. "Are you questioning a teacher, Mr. Malfoy?"

"No, _sir_. It's just interesting that you are so unavailable for your own house right here before OWLs, and yet, you seem to have enough time for these…Gryffindors." There was a hint of jealousy in his voice, even as he sneered the words.

Snape regarded him with dark eyes for a long moment. He knew there was a threat here. If Draco had noticed his absence and the Trio's at the same time, he might put some dangerous ideas together. He finally gave a malicious smile to the blond teen. "As luck would have it, the Gryffindor detentions are at an end." Draco smiled back at Snape and just as quickly the smile disappeared when Snape finished, "And now begins the intense study sessions for the House of Slytherin. Please inform your year that they will all be required to attend a daily evening study session. As well, your Sunday will no longer be free, you will all be in session then."

Draco backpeddled, "But, sir, Quidditch practice-"

"Oh no, Mr. Malfoy. Nothing must stand in the way of my Slytherins obtaining O's on their OWLs. You will inform the house?" He gestured towards the hall dismissively.

Draco turned and walked, but turned around once, as if to say something else. Finally, he disappeared around the corner.

Snape turned back to the Trio. When Hermione made a move to say something, he shook his head. "You are dismissed." He said loudly. " Do not incur my further wrath with more idiotic Gryffindor stunts, or you may not be here to take your OWLs when it is time." He looked at Harry as he spoke. Harry nodded that he understood the words not spoken. Draco was more than likely listening from just out of sight. Snape made the same motion towards the hall that he had made for Draco. Once they were ushered out, he closed the door loudly behind them.

Ron narrowed his eyes and looked about to explode. Harry grabbed his arm with one hand and Hermione's with the other. He spoke loudly as well, "Just come on, Ron. I don't want any more trouble from Snape. Enough is enough." He shook his head at them both when he thought they would speak up, anyway.

As they hurried up the dungeon steps, Harry thought he could feel the grey eyes watching them intently. Harry hoped that Draco had been fooled by the act Snape had put on. If not, there could be some serious trouble in store for all of them.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

If Potions class had been bad before, it was horrendous now. Snape had obviously decided to make sure there was no doubt in Draco's mind that he detested all things Gryffindor. He constantly harangued Hermione as a 'not-so-know-it-all'. Harry and Ron were treated as dismally as usual, too. The burning glare of the Potion Master's black eyes seemed to bore holes into Harry's skull whenever he happened to catch Harry looking at him. Harry wondered if Snape was trying to communicate something to him, but he refused to let down his Occluding to find out.

It was bad enough that his scar continued to twinge almost constantly now. Harry would awaken several times during the night, drenched in sweat. Although the pain in his scar didn't seem worse, it seemed like he had worked hard in his sleep to keep his defences up. His mind woke him up when it feared that the asleep Harry would give in to the relentless probing of Voldemort. At least, Harry had decided that this was a plausible explanation for how he felt. He knew Ron and Hermione were noticing when he rubbed his forehead as they studied, and whenever he let his head drift down onto his arms, they would gently pat him to bring him back to attention. Only once did Hermione suggest that Harry talk to Dumbledore or Snape.

"You really should let them know how much it's bothering you," she said one evening. Harry had been rubbing his scar absently as Hermione drilled them from her Transfiguration notes. Harry had fallen asleep right in the middle of answering her. He looked up at her tiredly as she touched his arm. Ron was looking on in concern.

"It's nothing new. It's not any worse, there's just no let up now. I don't think Voldemort is sleeping much these days." He sighed. "I know I'm not."

Harry pulled his book closer, and motioned for Hermione to keep on with her review.

In Potions the next day, Snape looked at Harry for a long moment with narrowed eyes. His jaw clenched as he took in the exhausted posture and the dark circles under Harry's eyes. He did not miss the looks of concern that Ron and Hermione were sharing over Harry's head. When Hermione looked up and saw Snape watching them, she silently pleaded for him to let up just this one time. Snape gave her a curt nod that could have meant anything, because at the same time, he began a long monologue regarding the ineptitude of the entire class's essay submissions the previous week. The only other gesture he made towards Harry was to slam the palm of his hand down on the desk in front of him when he noticed that Harry had let his head drop onto his arms. The resulting jerk into an upright position earned some snickers from the Slytherins. Harry looked up and into Snape' s face, his eyes still half closed. When a scorching glare from dark eyes yielded no response, Snape looked again at Hermione, scowling deeply. She bit her lip and shrugged. Without comment, Snape moved on.

In the Great Hall at dinner, Professor McGonagall stepped up behind Harry. With a brisk, business-like voice she ordered, "Mr. Potter, I would like a word with you after dinner. Please stop by my office."

Harry sighed tiredly, "Yes ma'am." He listlessly continued to push his food around on the plate. McGonagall noted that he wasn't eating much of it. She exchanged a worried look with Hermione.

"Perhaps Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley will accompany you. I would not want you to fall asleep along the way," she added archly.

Hermione and Ron nodded. McGonagall shook her head Harry's slumped back before retreating up to the head table. Hermione turned around and noticed Draco watching them intently. She narrowed her eyes at him and he just smirked at her. She rolled her eyes as if to say, '_Whatever' _to him and turned her back on him again. She leaned close to Harry and whispered, "I think something is up with Malfoy. He's watching us pretty closely. Do try to keep him guessing, Harry."

Harry forced himself to sit up straighter and shoved a bite of food into his mouth. After swallowing, he took a drink of pumpkin juice. With the glass up to his mouth, he chanced a look at the head table. Dumbledore was talking quietly to McGonagall, but he glanced at Harry when she nodded in response to him. Snape was surveying the entire room, it appeared. But then Harry noticed that the glittering eyes were really only watching Malfoy and him. When Snape saw him looking, Harry thought he saw a look of something like concern sweep briefly over his features. It was quickly shrouded and Snape turned to speak to the professor at his side.

Harry tried to eat most of his food, but he was afraid if he stayed seated much longer, he would fall face-first into his plate. When he actually felt himself jerk back to awareness mid-bite, he stood up. Quickly gathering his book bag, he began to make his way out of the hall, Hermione and Ron hurrying to catch up. With a determined stride, he started up the grand staircase. Out of nowhere, it seemed, Draco stepped in front of him, blocking his path. Harry teetered on slightly unsteady feet as he was brought to a halt.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" he asked dully.

"Why, Potter, I just want to know how you're getting on these days. You look a bit under the weather. Having bad dreams? Trouble sleeping perhaps?" Draco smirked.

Harry glared at him. "What would you know about it if I were?"

"Maybe a lot." He gave Harry a considering look. "Too bad you won't be at your best for the OWLs. Looks like the Boy Who Lived is about to disappoint his fans." Draco gave a sneering chuckle, then pushed roughly past Harry as he walked away.

Harry caught himself with the banister to keep from falling. Ron and Hermione came up beside him just then. Jerking his head in Draco's direction, Ron asked, "What did he want?"

"Nothing. He's just gloating like he knows I'll be too tired to pass any test, let alone the OWLs." He looked at his friends and smiled weakly. "Come on. Let's see McGonagall so I can go to bed. Right now, I don't think I could stay awake to study if my life depended on it."

He had said this last part in a joking manner, but he missed seeing the alarmed look that passed between Ron and Hermione.

They knocked on McGonagall's door a few moments later. When there was no answer they looked questioningly at each other. Harry leaned his head against the door, closing his eyes. Ron was about to say something, when McGonagall came walking rapidly down the hall.

"I didn't expect you to beat me here." She took in Harry's even more exhausted appearance and quickly opened the door. Harry went in and fell into an armchair without waiting for an invitation. The heaviness in his mind and body seemed to be getting worse by the second. After coming in behind Hermione and Ron, McGonagall closed the door and muttered locking and silencing spells. Stepping over to the fireplace, she threw in a handful of Floo powder and called, "Albus, Severus, we're here."

In moments, the two men stepped out of the fire onto the hearth. Snape moved quickly to Harry, pulling out his wand. In alarm, Ron went for his until he felt Dumbledore's hand on his arm. "It's alright, Mr. Weasley. Professor Snape is only trying to determine what Harry's difficulty might be."

"I'll tell you what it is," Ron said quickly. "Harry hasn't had decent sleep in a week. He wakes up all the time, after being asleep for just a little while. And then he's like this the rest of the time."

Snape was pointing his wand at Harry and muttering various incantations. He knelt before the chair and touched Harry's forehead closing his eyes in concentration. Then he moved his hands to Harry's wrists and held them tightly for another minute. Harry had fallen asleep as he sat there, oblivious to being spelled and probed by the Potion Master. Snape looked up at the Headmaster and said shortly, "He's been hit with an obscure sleep disturbance hex. I'm not certain I can reverse it without researching it first. My attempt could make it worse instead of better."

As he spoke, Harry became agitated in his sleep. They watched as sweat broke out on his face and it looked like he was struggling with a nightmare. His hand reached up and wiped at the scar on his forehead. Muttering unintelligibly, he thrashed in the chair. Suddenly, Harry sat bolt upright, eyes wide. Out of breath, he looked around at all of them. He looked down at the wrist still in Snape's grip. He twisted his hand to escape, but Snape tightened his grasp. Harry looked into his eyes and Snape pushed himself at the edge of Harry's consciousness.

"Mr. Potter, let me see what your dream was," he said sharply.

Harry shook his head, frowning in an effort to intensify his occlusion. Snape leaned towards him, tightening his hold even more. "You have been hexed, Mr. Potter. Your dreams may hold a clue as to what hex it is and how to reverse it. Let me see it now."

Harry still had not said a word. Snape was not even certain if Harry was fully awake.

His eyes closed and he fell forward onto Snape, answering that question. Snape sat him back. He looked up at Dumbledore. After a moment's consideration, Dumbledore nodded his head.

"Do it Severus. I know you aren't going to use anything against him that you might find. We need to know if there is anything that we can use to help him, though. You have my permission."

McGonagall was looking back and forth between them. Before Ron or Hermione could ask, she was questioning, "Albus? What are you talking about?"

"I have given Severus leave to sift through Harry's mind. It is perhaps the fastest way to determine a way to help him."

McGonagall pursed her lips and looked back down as Snape moved closer to Harry. Still holding his wrist, he moved his other hand to rest fingertips at Harry's temple.

Ron and Hermione looked at each other silently and with apprehension. They had to trust that Dumbledore wouldn't let Snape do something that would injure Harry.

Snape let his consciousness start flowing into Harry's subconscious. Through swirling tendrils of mist, snippets of thought flowed by:

… _if mum and dad were still alive, I'd have a home like Hermione … so nice to have a real family … happy … warm feelings … so glad we can share it for awhile … don't let them see I pretend that it's my family we're visiting … this is what it would be like … laughing with me in fun, not at me to hurt … wish they would hug me too …_

… _Snape is different somehow … not evil like I thought … just lonely … like me …_

… walking down a long corridor … on the way to the library … grey eyes before me … what are you doing here? … aren't you supposed to be with Snape and the other snarky Slytherins? … what was that … how did I get here … wasn't I going to the library? … so tired … need sleep … can't sleep …

… slithering sounds coming closer … Nagini's eyes … her flickering tongue, tasting the air … trying to see know what I'm doing … where I've been going … what is … pizza? … no … You won't see my family … won't let you get them this time … not again …

Snape sighed as he released the wrist he held and slumped down beside the armchair, his other hand dropping into his lap. He rubbed his own forehead and looked back up at Dumbledore. " I believe that he was hexed by a student. Therefore, it cannot be a difficult hex. I should be able to counter it after I do a bit of research to make sure."

"Could you see why this was done, Severus?"

"Yes." Snape nodded. "Mr. Potter has been feeling the Dark Lord's probing for some time now. It has been as if he is trying to _sneak a peak_ into his mind. His words, not mine." Snape paused, gathering his thoughts. "It seems as if the Dark Lord believes that a more subtle, relentless attack of his thoughts will yield more information than previous painful, bursts of attack."

"Has he been successful?" the Headmaster questioned.

"That is not clear, Mr. Potter is occluding, even in his sleep. It appears that the hex was an effort to force him to stop occluding when he sleeps. His mind will not let him continue to sleep when it looks like the attack is about to succeed. That's why he wakes after only short periods of sleep. Because he is not getting enough sleep, he is completely exhausted. If I reverse the hex, he should be able to occlude more easily in his sleep."

"Should be able to?" McGonagall spoke up. 'What if he is so utterly exhausted now that he cannot occlude at all?"

"That is a possibility." Snape acknowledged.

Hermione couldn't help but ask, "Can you help keep Voldemort out of his mind, so he can sleep in peace?" She searched Snapes face for an answer. At her side, Ron had flinched at the Dark Wizards name, but he too looked at the Potion Master expectantly.

Snape looked at all of them in turn. Dumbledore and McGonagall were looking at each other. When Snape nodded, McGonagall placed a hand on his shoulder. "You can stay here. It would probably be best if we didn't move him."

"Yes. There are enough suspicions among certain groups as it is." Dumbledore agreed. He turned to Ron and Hermione. "You two return to Gryffindor Tower. Most everyone observing Harry at dinner will have noted that he was not himself. You may simply say that you insisted he go to the hospital wing and Madame Pomfrey decided to keep him overnight."

"But, sir, what if someone checks and sees he's not really there?" Hermione asked.

Madame Pomfrey will make certain the wing is locked against visitors for tonight. She will know that it is in Harry's best interest to be left alone."

Hermione and Ron took one last look at their sleeping friend before turning towards the door. Hermione looked back at Snape. "You will take care of him, sir?" she asked anxiously.

He sneered up at her from where he still sat on the floor. "In spite of your lack of trust, I will do my best, Miss Granger."

She nodded and disappeared after Ron out the door.

Snape stood up and looked over McGonagall's personal library for a reference that would help him with the hex. With the help of Dumbledore, they were able to find what they were looking for without going to the library or back to the dungeons. After checking that they had memorized the counterhex, Dumbledore transfigured the chair Harry was slumped in into a bed. Between him and McGonagall, they were able to magic Harry into some comfortable pajamas as Snape changed out of his teaching robes and into looser casual clothes. He sat up against the headboard and pulled Harry up against his chest.

With a grimace, he looked at the other two professors. "I trust that you will keep this part of the evening to yourselves. _Forever_."

"But of course, Severus," McGonagall intoned blandly. "There is no need to cause Potter embarrassment over this."

Snape growled, "I was speaking to my own embarrassment."

In spite of the seriousness of the situation, there was a small twinkle of amusement in Dumbledore and McGonagall's eyes. Snape settled himself further and with his arms around Harry, he placed his hands against the temples of the boy's head. Dumbledore readied his wand, and at Snapes nod, he intoned the counterhex. As soon as he did so, Snape pushed his mind into Harry's.

Harry became aware of swirling mist. He was standing there, looking around, perplexed. Where was he? There was a rustling noise behind him and he whirled to face it. He couldn't see anything, but he thought he heard stealthy movement all around now. At first, it had seemed harmless, but the longer he stood there, it seemed as if something was coming. Something _not_ harmless. He started walking, even though he had no idea of direction in this place. Suddenly, a figure appeared before him. He stumbled backwards when Snapes intent face became clearer.

'Harry, do not be alarmed. I am not here to do you harm.'

'Where are we, Professor?'

'You are asleep. I am in your mind.'

'What is happening? I don't remember…'

'You were hexed so that your defenses would go down, allowing the Dark Lord access to your mind when you slept. We've countered the hex, but you are extremely sleep deprived now.' The black eyes peered at Harry, as if waiting for Harry to say something else. Harry looked all around when he heard the silky rustling again. Snape looked around too.

'What is that, sir?'

'I believe it is Nagini. She is trying to find a way in.'

'How do I stop her?'

'You do not have to right now. I am here to keep her out while you sleep.'

'How are you able to do that? Why would you do it?'

'Because it is what you need. I have the skill, if you will allow it. Let me guard your mind, and you may sleep until you have recovered sufficiently to Occlude on your own again.'

'I'm not sure I can trust you that much…'

'I know. I have not given you much reason to expect to. The outward deception has been necessary.'

'Is this one of those things Dumbledore thinks should be kept from me?'

'Yes. He believes he protects you by limiting your knowledge of what is happening. He believes you would do better to be oblivious to all the dangers surrounding you.'

'And you? Do you think I need to be protected, too?'

'Not from everything. I believe you need some information in order to avoid making imbecilic Gryffindor decisions. You do tend to leap with insane bravery into situations you are not ready for.'

Harry thought about this for a minute. 'Am I really sleeping right now? How am I talking to you…in my dream?…'

'You are sleeping.' Snape confirmed. 'We are talking because I am in your mind, like I already told you. We are in the place before dreams come.'

'You're being unusually patient. You don't much seem like Snape at all. He wouldn't be so nice to me.'

'I am Snape,' he sighed. 'You need some real sleep, Harry. Please just let go and let me keep watch for you.'

'You promise you won't let her in?'

'I promise. No harm will come to you while I am here.'

'Will I remember this?'

'I am not certain. Perhaps. You should know that if you dream, I will see them. I will not betray your trust by divulging them.'

Snape waited for Harry to decide what he wanted to do. Harry looked all around again, trying to see through the mist. Finally, he looked back.

'Okay. But can I ask one more thing, sir?'

'Certainly, Harry.'

'This is really nice, talking to you like a real person, I mean. Can we do it again when I'm awake? '

Snape stared at him. For a minute, Harry was afraid he had made Snape angry and he would go away to leave Harry to handle this on his own after all. Then Snape nodded.

'I would like that as well. Now go to sleep. Rest. I'll be here until you wake up.'

'I hope I remember this. But if I don't, I'd just like to say thank you, Professor.'

'You're welcome.'

'I do like you calling me Harry, too.'

'Go to sleep Harry.'

'Yes sir.'

The mist swirled up, heavy and blotting out the figure of Snape. The rustling noises that had been circling them faded into the quiet whiteness and Harry felt safer than he had ever felt in his life.

On the transfigured bed, the boy rolled to lay his cheek against the chest of the Potion Master. Keeping one hand on Harry's temple, Snape wrapped his other arm more tightly around the boy. Harry's face relaxed in his sleep, while Snape began to frown more deeply at the images that began to emerge and haunt the white mist.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15: Drawing a Blank

Harry slowly awoke. With his eyes closed, he listened. Why did it seem different? Then he realized that he didn't hear snoring coming from other parts of the room. Were his roommates already up and out? He stretched and sat up, opening his eyes. With a start, he saw that he was not even in his own bed, let alone his room in Gryffindor Tower. As he struggled to think of where he was, and why he was here, the door across the room opened and Snape strolled in. He carried a cup of tea in one hand and a plate of toast in the other.

"Ah, you're awake. Breakfast in the Great Hall will be ending soon. We took the liberty of getting you tea and toast." The voice was Snape's, but the attitude definitely was not.

Harry stared up at Snape. "You're bringing me breakfast in bed?" He frowned, shaking his head. "This can't be real. I must still be sleeping."

"I assure you that you are awake, Mr. Potter. How do you feel, besides the minor disorientation?" Snape set the cup and plate on the small table beside the bed.

"Where are we? I don't recognize this place." Harry looked around slowly, feeling like his brain was encased in a thickening potion. He returned his gaze to Snape and saw that the teacher was observing him thoughtfully. "I feel more than just a little disoriented, I think. I can't remember how I came to be here … with you …"

Snape sat down in a chair that he pulled close to the bed. "You were suffering from a sleep disturbance hex. It was simply supposed to cause you to fall asleep at inopportune times. However, because it was also meant to allow the Dark Lord to more easily access you thoughts, your mind refused to let you sleep deeply enough for that to happen. Your desire to occlude him over-rode the hex to a degree. The struggle between you and the hex induced a significant amount of sleep deprivation."

Harry tried to process that, and then commented, "But I feel like I slept really well last night. I don't feel tired at all."

Snape nodded. "Good. Then you will be able to return to class. You should be able to continue your own occlusion now."

"What do you mean, now? Haven't I been?" Harry asked in confusion.

Snape sighed deeply. "You were exhausted to the extent that had you slept like you needed to after the hex was lifted, you would not have been able to hold your own efforts at occlusion firmly in place. I held them up for you."

Harry stared at him. "And how did you do that?"

Snape regarded him for a long moment before answering. "I was in your mind all night."

Harry frowned, trying to be angry at what seemed like such a huge intrusion upon his person. But instead, he simply felt relief, and gratitude. Snape looked like he was waiting for Harry to reach his own conclusions, giving him only the information he was asking for each time. Harry picked up the cup of tea and after taking a sip, he asked, "What would have happened to me if you hadn't done that?"

With deceptive calmness, Snape replied, "The Dark Lord would most likely have ripped you psyche to shreds, leaving you a permanent patient in St. Mungo's … if you survived it at all."

Harry choked a little on the mouthful he had just swallowed. Looking Snape in the eye, he whispered, "In that case, thanks."

"You thanked me last night."

'I did? I don't remember. Will I remember later?" It seemed important that he remember something like that, and it disturbed him that he did not.

"You may start to recall last night at some point. If you do not, it is no matter. You were safe here."

"I still don't know where here is," Harry muttered.

"Professor McGonagall's office."

Harry looked down at the bed he sat in, and then back at Snape, raising his eyebrows. "She has a bed in her office?"

At that moment, there was a knock on the door. Snape sighed. "That would be Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley. You should get dressed before you leave. Your clothes are through there," he indicated with a nod the door he had emerged from earlier.

Harry looked down at himself and seemed to realize that here he was, in bed in his pyjamas, with his professor sitting there. A professor who had just told him that he had spent the night in his mind. With a little alarm, Harry jumped up and walked quickly to the door where his clothes supposedly waited. He started to say something, and when he turned around, he saw the bed pop back into an armchair, and rearrange itself to sit back in front of McGonagall's desk. Snape was putting his wand back inside his robes and looked questioningly at Harry. At the door, Harry breathed, "Thanks for getting rid of that before anyone comes in. I'll be right out."

Snape nodded in understanding. Harry caught a flicker of thought, something about _preserving both of our dignities_, before he turned and rushed through to the next room to change. He heard Snape opening the door and heard the voices belonging to Hermione and Ron asking if he was all right.

Hermione ran forward and gave him a hug when he came out a few minutes later. Ron clapped him on the back. "You okay, mate?"

"Yeah. I feel good." Harry smiled.

"Well, Malfoy won't be happy to see you. He was going on and on this morning about how you weren't going to be taking the OWLs and were probably at St. Mungo's by now," Hermione said with a frown.

Snape spoke up with a menacing growl, "Do not be concerned with Mr. Malfoy. I will deal with him. You are not to mention that you are aware of the hex." Harry looked up into the black eyes. Snape stared back. Harry was almost relieved to see the familiar sneer on the Potion Masters face. With a lop-sided grin, he grabbed up his book bag, and led the way out the door.

As they walked to class, Ron asked quietly, "So what happened after we left?"

Harry glanced over at his friend. "I don't know. It's all a blank to me. All I do know is I feel tons better than yesterday."

Hermione looked askance at him. "That's a little alarming, Harry. You don't remember anything about last night?"

Harry shrugged. "No." He stopped and his two friends stopped to face him. "But it doesn't feel scary. The blank doesn't feel like a bad thing. It's like it's blank, but not empty, you know?"

Both Ron and Hermione shook their heads. Harry just shrugged again and continued walking to their class. The other two exchanged a look and then followed.

Draco Malfoy was livid when he saw Harry enter the classroom. Harry could see that it was a real struggle for him to keep his questions in check. It felt very satisfying to smirk at him as he fumed. Harry caught Draco staring at him intently several times throughout the class period. Each time, Harry would simply stare at him in return until Draco pulled his eyes away. Finally, Harry commented loudly, "Malfoy, did you want to say something to me? Because you sure are looking at me as if something is on your mind."

Draco reddened and bent back to his work, scowling.

At lunch, Harry glanced up at the head table. Snape, McGonagall, and Dumbledore were all looking back at him. Harry gave them a quick thumbs up sign and was glad to see small smiles from Dumbledore and McGonagall in return. Snape just nodded shortly and returned to his meal.

The afternoon was free study time for their year, to give them extra preparation time for OWLs. Harry was relieved to find that his memory of his subjects was not as blank as the night before. Everyone was seated in the Great Hall with parchments of notes and books spread out everywhere. Quiet whispers indicated groups who were reviewing each other. Occasional groans punctuated the subdued and tense atmosphere.

Hermione sat down next to Ron and across from Harry. She had been with another review group for a while and was now determined to review both the boys in History of Magic. When she got out her copious notes, Ron dropped his head onto his arms and moaned.

He looked up at Hermione from this position. "I can't take anymore talk of goblin or giant wars, 'Mione, I really can't"

She sniffed. "Well, you'll have to take it Ronald, because you need the review badly. If you had chosen to pay more attention in class, this wouldn't be so dreadful now."

Ron pushed his other notes aside in resignation. "Okay, then. Get on with it."

Hermione pushed a blank parchment back at him. "Start writing."

"Wha'?" He looked at her incredulously.

"You know it will be better if you write it down as we review. It stays in your brain better if you say it, write it, and read it, you know," she stated confidently. "It takes all three to really have it down. That's how I do it."

With a deep sigh, Ron and Harry picked up their quills. Harry smiled when he heard Ron mutter under his breath, "If I write it all down, I won't have the strength left in my fingers to write at the test…"

Hermione chose to ignore him and briskly began her review of dates and important creatures that had been mentioned in their last few years of History of Magic class.

As they worked, bowls of fruit and pitchers of water and pumpkin juice would appear on the tables to revive the stressed out students. Harry reached out to pick up an apple when his wrist was caught in a hard grip. He looked up to see Draco standing beside him.

The platinum blond hissed in his ear, "I don't know how you did it, Potter, but you better watch your back. You'll be out of here yet!"

Harry glared up at Draco with stormy green eyes. "Is that a threat, Malfoy? It sure sounds like one."

Ron stood up and his hand was in his robe reaching for his wand, when Snape swept down the aisle between the tables. Draco dropped Harry's wrist as Snape growled, "Is there a problem, Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco glared back at Harry as he answered, "No, sir. Potter just chose the apple I was choosing for myself."

"I believe fruit has arrived at your table as well," Snape intoned quietly. When Draco didn't move away, he leaned towards him, "A word, Mr. Malfoy." He turned to stride up the aisle. He turned back when Draco didn't answer or follow. "_Now_."

Draco sent a burning glare at all three of the Gryffindors before following Snape out of the hall. Harry had to force himself to remain seated and not follow them. He had had it with Malfoy's insinuations.

Ron sat back down and leaned over the table to whisper, "I bet it was him that hexed you, Harry. He's been awfully upset that you're still around after yesterday."

Harry looked over at his best friends. "Snape'll sort it out. We need to stay out of it, like he said." With a hesitant smile he continued, "But Malfoy is right about one thing. Whether it turns out to be him or someone else, I do need to watch my back."

"We're watching, too," Hermione whispered.

"Thanks." Harry smiled a little more broadly. He gave the closed doors to the Great Hall one last look and then turned back to his notes.

There were no more verbal threats after that. Draco seemed properly subdued whenever they encountered him in the corridors, classrooms or at meals. He avoided speaking to any of them, leaving them to wonder just what Snape might have said to him.

For his part, Snape continued to be the familiar looming menace, wherever they saw him. Occasionally, Harry would find the obsidian eyes observing him, and he would make sure his thoughts were carefully shielded when he made eye contact. Snape would keep his face blank, and Harry would feel that this was a sign that his occlusion efforts met with approval.

As the OWLs dates drew nearer, they were all getting more anxious. The professors seemed to be more short-tempered as well. They passed out their own review outlines and homework involved filling them in without referring to notes. It was on the honour system, but as McGonagall told them, it was a surer way to determine what weaknesses they might each have to improve upon before the actual tests.

While Hermione continued to escalate in anxiety, Harry and Ron were just ready to be over and done with it. They were spending a rare few minutes by the lake one afternoon. Hermione was off in another study group, and they were enjoying the respite from her constant rattling off with facts and then diving into her bag for notes to support them.

Ron was leaning on one elbow as he looked out over the white capped water. Harry was quiet as he sat cross-legged against a tree. Ron glanced up at him when Harry rubbed absently at his forehead.

"Bothering you, again?" he asked.

"You mean still?" Harry grimaced. "Yeah. Instead of coming and going, it's like a constant humming now. I can tune it out most of the time, but sometimes I can hardly hear for the ringing in my ears."

Ron looked at Harry thoughtfully. "Do you suppose that V- _he_, cares if you do well on the OWLs? If Malfoy really meant for you to be unable to take them, someone on the inside must've put him up to it. Unless he's that afraid you'll do so much better than him."

Harry smiled at that thought. "In that case, it would've been Hermione that got hexed. She'll wipe the floor with him, you know."

"She'll wipe the floor with all of us, won't she?" Ron sighed.

Harry just nodded his agreement. He wasn't jealous of how smart Hermione was and he knew that Ron wasn't either. She was brilliant, and even though it could sometimes be irritating, she was sweet and loyal, too. It helped that she wasn't all girly and giggly like most of the other girls in their year. He knew Ron was starting to like Hermione more than just as a friend and he could also see that she returned the feelings. Strangely, Harry didn't feel jealous of this either. He knew that whatever their relationship evolved to, they would still stand by him.

Awhile later, they were walking back up to the castle and Harry felt eyes on him. He stopped and looked all around before seeing Snape standing just inside the big doors. He regarded Harry for a moment before disappearing back into the shadows of the castle. Harry frowned as he continued walking. Ron looked over at him. "What is it?"

Harry shook his head, "Nothing." He wasn't going to complain if Snape was watching his back as well. Who else would have any degree of control over Malfoy?


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16: Dealing With It

One after another, fifth-years stumbled out onto the sunny castle lawn and collapsed. A few very tired ones actually burst into tears of relief. Harry walked slowly down to their customary spot by the lake. When he sat down, he looked back and saw Ron and Hermione come out the doors and head his way. He glanced up when they sat down beside him.

"Well, how do you think you did?" he asked tiredly.

"I don't want to think about it at all," Ron said, sounding drained.

Hermione began, "I think I did well on History of Magic, but I really think I missed a number of significant points in Ancient Runes. Potions wasn't too bad, so I think I did okay there. Did either of you have trouble on the Transfiguration Practical? I certainly didn't expect it to be a combination application -"

"Hermione!" Ron reached out and grabbed her hand and shook it gently. "Just answer, 'I know I beat your pants off' and be done with it. Don't rehash the whole thing. _Please_." He smiled at her to show he wasn't really mad, just tired.

She closed her mouth and shot him an understanding smile. "Okay. I'll save my post-test analysis for the study group. I know you're both just glad it's over for now."

Ron nodded and squeezed her hand. They sat silently for a while – it being nice to have nothing to review, say, or write down for the moment.

Harry was dozing in a pleasant, drifting sort of way when he heard a flutter. Opening his eyes, he saw that an eagle owl had landed beside Hermione. He looked on with interest as she untied the note on its leg. It took off immediately, so apparently no reply was expected. She read the note silently and her brow furrowed.

"Who's it from, 'Mione?" Ron asked, trying to see what it said from reading upside down.

"Mum and Dad … they say they're glad the OWLs are over and hope we can come soon to celebrate Muggle style."

"Cool." Ron smiled. "Can we get pizza again? That was pretty good."

Harry noted that Hermione was still frowning. "What's the matter? What else does it say?"

"Dad says 'thanks' for sending them a last minute note letting them know I was holding up while waiting for the tests to get underway." She stood up, holding the note in shaking fingers. Looking down at Ron and Harry, she whispered, "I didn't send them a note like that."

"Maybe the owl got lost and the note is meant for someone else," Harry suggested.

Hermione turned the note over in her hand, in then back to the message itself. "It's from my parents, addressed to me. How could they send a note to me without me sending one first? I didn't send an owl to them, and there's not one at home."

At that moment, Draco strolled up. With a smirk on his face, he crossed his arms. "Interesting time of day for mail, Granger. Potter giving you lessons on how to beat the rules?"

Harry and Ron stood up to face Draco. "What's it to you what time she gets a letter, Malfoy?" Ron had his fists clenched and his jaw was set.

Draco shrugged, smirk still firmly in place. "Must be nice to get to see more of your pitiful Muggle parents. The rest of us have to wait for the proper times to see ours."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Malfoy." Hermione gritted her teeth, and her voice had become solidly quiet.

"Don't you? Getting to enjoy little side benefits of being friends with The-Boy-No-One-Loves? Is it fun to show off something you have that he doesn't? Of course, I wouldn't call having Muggles for parents much of something anyway. What is it they do, work on Muggle teeth? That's disgusting -"

Ron was stepping forward and slamming a fist into Draco's jaw before Harry could blink away his surprise that Draco seemed to know what they had been doing. Hermione screamed and grabbed Ron's arm before he could draw back for another go.

Harry stepped in between Draco and his friends. Glaring at the Slytherin, he intoned levelly, "You don't know what you're talking about, Malfoy. Do you even know how ridiculous you sound?"

Draco glanced up towards the castle and when they followed his look, they could see that Snape was striding towards them. "I know what I know," he sneered. "You all think you're so far above everyone else. But you'll get yours. And sooner than you think."

Snape reached them then. "Explain yourself, Mr. Weasley," he said shortly.

"Malfoy here is insulting Hermione's parents and accusing her of – of – seeing too much of them?" he finished the last part of his answer in a questioning tone, as he looked at Draco with narrowed eyes.

Hermione stepped forward, "I just got this note by owl from my parents, sir. It's a reply to a note _I_ didn't send."

Snape regarded them all in silence for a long moment. Then his eyes fell on Draco, who was still smirking, even as he held a hand to his bruising jaw. "Mr. Malfoy. It is becoming an annoying habit for you to seek entertainment by baiting Gryffindors. I would have thought our last talk enough to dissuade you from such childishness."

"You know what's going on, Severus. I know you do. My father isn't too pleased with what I've been telling him, lately -"

Snape seized Draco's arm in a fierce grip, hard enough to cut off his sentence abruptly as Draco gave a gasp of pain. "It appears we need to have another talk. Your persistence with this is foolish." He turned, jerking Draco along with him as he made his way back to the castle.

The Trio could hear them as Snape swept away: "But, Severus, they're leaving the castle all the time -" Draco was saying.

Snape shook his arm brutally, hissing, "Enough! You will not call me by name here. And you will cease these dangerous games you're playing!"

"So it must be something you don't want found out -"

"Shut. Up. Now!"

Their voices faded and the three watched them enter the castle, Snape still dragging Draco along with a vengeance.

Hermione sank to the ground, starting to shake again. Ron was absently rubbing the knuckles of the hand he had slugged Draco with. Looking down at Hermione, he sat down and pulled her into a gentle hug.

Harry stood staring towards the castle long after Draco and Snape had gone inside. His mind was reeling, trying to make sense of what they had seen and heard. Draco calls Snape Severus? Draco knows we've been leaving the castle? Draco has been telling his father? Did Draco send an owl to Hermione's parents? Snape had been livid with anger. Harry had felt it like an electrical current. It had been an anger that had felt anxious, as well.

He finally snapped out of his contemplation and looked down where Ron and Hermione sat huddled together. Feeling like he had to have some answers, he said briefly, "See you in the common room." With that, he walked quickly back to the castle, determined to get some of those answers.

Entering the castle, he stopped, debating whether to head down to the dungeons, or up to the Headmaster's office. Deciding that Snape was most likely still dealing with Draco, he chose to go up. At the spiral staircase, he paused, unsure of the password. He stared up at the stone gargoyle that looked to be glaring back. In another moment, the staircase began to move upwards. Harry sighed and stepped on. As usual, Harry had waited long enough that no password was necessary. It made him wonder briefly why Dumbledore even bothered to have a password, unless he really did enjoy making people utter the names of ridiculous sweets. The door was open when he got to the top, so he went in. He looked around at all the familiar things, waiting for Dumbledore to make his appearance. The portraits of the former headmasters were regarding him alertly but silently. Harry was standing calmly with his hands behind his back when Dumbledore came down from the upper landing of his office.

"Ah, Harry. I understand OWLs are over. You did well, I trust?" The blue eyes twinkled over the half-moon spectacles.

"Yes, sir, I think so," Harry replied. He wondered how he should begin, but as usual, Dumbledore already knew.

"Professor Snape is dealing with Mr. Malfoy as we speak."

"But _how_ is he dealing with it? Malfoy knows what we've been doing and he's telling his father. You know Lucius is a Death Eater. He'll be telling Voldemort, and then no telling what might happen -"

"Harry, I don't believe it will come to any consequence. Draco is simply trying to get Professor Snape's attention."

Harry must have looked confused by this, because Dumbledore explained further, "Draco has known Professor Snape since he was an infant. He has been jealous of the time he has spent with you in these past few months. He seeks to force his way back to the front of his family friend's attention. That's to say nothing of the fact that Slytherins are rather used to having their Head of House giving them close regard."

"Yeah? Well, he certainly is doing that." Harry looked at Dumbledore in frustration. "Malfoy all but threatened Hermione just now. He sent an owl to her parents this morning, making it seem like it was from her. How do we know there haven't been others? He could be helping his father -"

"As I said, Professor Snape is taking care of the situation." Dumbledore looked over his glasses sternly at Harry. Reading the annoyance in the younger one's face, he added, "You have to trust that the adults around you can handle the other students, even problem students, Harry."

"But what if it's all a front? What if Snape is really not on our side -"

"You don't really think that, Harry. I trust Severus with my life." He laid a gentle gnarled hand on Harry's arm. "You have trusted him with yours."

Harry started at that. "When?"

Dumbledore stared at him silently for a moment. "When you were hexed. Severus stayed with you, Occluding for you until you were sufficiently rested."

With that quiet reminder, Harry felt a flood of suppressed memories begin to surface. He began to remember the place before dreams come, talking to Snape in the mist, hearing Nagini as she circled to get closer. He concentrated, trying to remember more _…_

'_I'm not sure I can trust you that much…'_

'_I know. I have not given you much reason to expect to. The outward deception has been necessary.'_

'_You're being unusually patient. You don't much seem like Snape at all. He wouldn't be so nice to me.'_

'_I am Snape.' He sighed. 'You need some real sleep, Harry. Please just let go and let me keep watch for you.'_

'_You promise you won't let her in?'_

'_I promise. No harm will come to you while I am here. Rest. I'll be here until you wake up.'_

'_I hope I remember this. But if I don't, I'd just like to say thank you, Professor.'_

'_You're welcome.'_

'_I do like you calling me Harry, too.'_

'_Go to sleep, Harry.'_

'_Yes, sir.'_

Harry looked up at Dumbledore again. He knew that if Snape had really meant him to come to harm, that would have been the time for it. He could've just stood by while Harry lost his ability to Occlude and let Voldemort get him then. It would have been an easy victory for their side. But Snape had protected him. Now that he remembered, he also remembered the feeling of absolute safety, being free to totally let go and have someone else take care of him. He nodded his head at the Headmaster, realizing that the Potions Master was probably the least likely person he would choose to be indebted to, but also the one who was most likely to keep promises. "I just hope Snape can control Malfoy. He seems really intent on making trouble. In fact, I think it was Malfoy that hexed me."

Dumbledore looked at him sharply. "Are you remembering something else? Professor Snape could not see exactly who it was that attacked you."

"No," Harry admitted. "It's just a feeling that I have, based on what he's said. I can't actually remember a face either."

"Then it does you no good to speculate. You, more than anyone else, know what it is like to have aspersions cast upon you that are untrue," Dumbledore chided.

Harry began to feel guilty for thinking the worst of Malfoy, while being even more annoyed that Dumbledore made him feel that way. "His family is friendly with Snape's family then?" he asked to change the subject.

"All the old wizarding families have ties somehow. The Malfoys have connections with just about everyone. Lucius and Professor Snape attended Hogwarts together."

"They were friends?" Harry questioned, wanting to know more of the Potions Master's history.

"Their relationship was civil." Harry noted that Dumbledore had avoided the word friends. Before Harry could ask further questions, Dumbledore raised his hand. "Professor Snape's private life is just that, Harry. Private. He would not appreciate anyone dissecting it."

"Yes, sir." Harry sighed.

At that moment there was a whoosh as the Floo spit Snape out on the hearth. He looked unsurprised to see Harry there. He began to pace the floor in a familiar swirl of black robes. Harry and Dumbledore both recognized it as a nervous habit. Harry thought he could pick up some of the same anxiety he had felt out on the lawn, but he wasn't sure. After a couple of passes, he began to speak, "Mr. Malfoy has admitted that he did indeed send a letter to the Grangers this morning, signing Miss Granger's name to it. While he has suspicions concerning the activities that occurred during our detentions, he realizes that he has only that, and no proof. I was able to convince him that when he saw us leave from this office on the one occasion that we failed to Floo down to the dungeons, it was because I had brought you all up here for a conference with the Headmaster. When I did not answer his knock at my door, it was because I chose not to do so, not because we were not there. He realizes that we suspect he may have had a hand in your hexing, but he flatly denies doing it." He stopped in front of Harry, looking at him intently. "Do you understand that the explanations you three offer up must match mine?"

Harry nodded, his green eyes locking with the black ones. _Thanks for keeping me safe._

Snape's eyes flickered briefly in acknowledgment of the thought. Snape turned to Dumbledore. "I have a few other matters I wish to discuss, Headmaster."

"Of course, Severus. Harry and I were finished when you arrived," Dumbledore said.

Harry nodded to them both and left, closing the door behind him. He walked back up to Gryffindor Tower, sure he would find Rom and Hermione back there.

As he expected, they were in the common room, sitting before the fire on a small sofa. Hermione still looked worried and they both looked up expectantly as Harry entered. Harry sat down and quietly told them what he had learned from the visit to Dumbledore's office. Hermione felt a little better knowing that the Headmaster was aware of the letter Draco had sent to her parents. Surely he wouldn't dare to do it again now that he had been caught.

Dumbledore sat down in his favourite chair in front of the fireplace. After a flexing his neck and shoulders tiredly, Snape sat down across from him.

Blue eyes met black ones and locked. Without any effort, the two spoke without words.

'_Your connection to Harry is getting stronger, I see.'_

'_It would seem so.'_

'_I'm glad he has that security.'_

'_Is that supposed to make me hate it any less?'_

'_Severus, you know I cannot cultivate such a connection with him myself.'_

'_Again, I ask if that is supposed to make me hate it less?'_

'_If I could, if I was certain that Tom would not be able to gain my knowledge through Harry, I would take up the responsibility -'_

'_Would you? I believe it has always been your plan to force me to be Harry's Mind-Keeper.'_

'_Mind-Keeper? An interesting but apt name for it. No. Not always. Through the years you have been at odds with each other to a degree that I felt even passing respect would be asking too much. Lately, with this new mission, you are both beginning to see each other as you really are.'_

'_I detest the feelings I have sometimes…'_

'_Only because they are so alien to you.'_

'_Not only for Harry, but for the other two.'_

'_Yes. I can see how difficult you might find it to actually enjoy Gryffindor company to Slytherin.'_

'_Enjoy is far too great a stretch.'_

'_Is it?'_

'_Draco is becoming more of a problem. I am worried that he may be venturing into treacherous waters with his suspicions.'_

'_I told Harry that Draco was jealous of your attention.' _

'_You say too much, old man.'_

'_Being old does come with certain privileges.'_

'_Indeed.'_


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17: Opening Act

Hermione had wasted no time in writing back to her parents. She didn't want to worry them by telling them that the last letter they had received had not actually been from her. But she did want to warn them to stop saying anything about the visits, in case the letters to and from were intercepted. To their relief, it looked like Draco was backing down. He even came up to Hermione after their next Potions class and apologized for tricking her parents. Snape had looked on in a way that told Harry he was making sure Draco actually did it. Harry also noted how attentive Snape was to the Slytherins. He made sure to praise them for any correct answers in class, while simply ignoring the Gryffindor side. Harry supposed that was better than deducting points, so it was all right

Without their detention ruse, The Trio was unable to meet with Snape as they had before the OWLs. McGonagall had pulled Hermione aside after class one day and told her that the next time they could get together would be the next Hogsmeade weekend. As a treat for fifth-years for completing the OWLs, Dumbledore was going to allow all of them to have extended weekend visitation with their families. The Trio would be able to go to the Granger's, where Snape would meet them.

Hermione was excited to tell them that her parents had bought tickets for all of them to see The Phantom of the Opera at Her Majesty's Theatre in London. Ron and Harry were sceptical about seeing a musical, but Hermione's enthusiasm made them hate to say so. Harry knew a little about Muggle musicals, of course, but the Dursley's had never taken him with them. Aunt Petunia had gone a couple times a year, while Uncle Vernon went only if it helped get him in the good books with a prospective client. The prospect of actually attending one himself felt sort of pretentious. He gave himself a mental smack and determined that he would at least look as if he enjoyed it, seeing as how Hermione's parents had gone to the trouble of including him.

Ron said he couldn't understand why anyone would want to act out a story while singing when they could do just as well to simply say what they needed to say. "No one goes around singing their conversations."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "It's called having a little culture in your life, Ronald. It's based on a classic novel by the French author, Gaston Leroux. I've seen it before with my parents, and it's a wonderful piece of work."

Hermione hoped that Snape would not think it idiotic, since she remembered the row they had about his learning about Muggle entertainment. The Granger's had sent Hermione several copies of a program synopsis, where the story of the musical was told. She rolled Snape's copy up inside an essay assignment. He had raised an eyebrow as he unrolled the essay and had given Hermione a brief stare. She decided that whether or not he thought it was a waste of his time, they would all enjoy it.

Hogsmeade weekend dawned sunny and cool, for a late Spring day. After breakfast in the Great Hall, most of the fifth-years boarded the Hogwarts Express for a special run back to London. While the Trio hated to waste time with this mode of travel, they knew they couldn't very well complain about how much faster it was to Portkey.

The Grangers met them at the station after they came through the barrier at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. As it was already so late, they went directly to dinner at a place called Quod. Harry had been to a fancy Muggle restaurant no more times than Ron had, and they were both desperately trying not to appear unaccustomed to being in such surroundings. The array of eating utensils alone was causing them to wait and watch Hermione's every move before they made one of their own. When Hermione noticed this, she began to make a small show of indicating the proper fork to use with the appetizer and then the salad.

"Don't worry. It's not often that you encounter a place that sets a complete table, even when most people never order all the food you would need to use all the utensils." Ellen smiled. "It's a way of showing you how elegant they are."

Ron was reaching out in indecision about which goblet was his. "How many glasses do we need, anyway?" Ellen, Martin, and Hermione just laughed while Hermione guided Ron's hand to his water.

When Snape did not join them, Hermione began to wonder if he really planned to. With a small sigh, she speared a tender shoot of asparagus. "Well, at least we can enjoy the musical, even if he chooses not to."

Martin laid a hand over his daughter's. "Honey, I'm sure he would be here if he could. I spoke to him and it sounded like he very much looked forward to this weekend."

The Trio stared at Martin. "Snape _called_ you?" Ron gasped.

"Yes. I believe he said he was calling from a village close to Hogwarts. He wanted to be sure we hadn't overextended our pocketbook by buying tickets for you all. I assured him that it was our pleasure to be able to treat you," Martin finished explaining.

"But he called on a telephone, by himself?" Hermione sounded doubtful.

"Well, you did show him how, remember," stated Ellen. "He is obviously intelligent enough to put it to use."

Harry had a bizarre image in his mind of Snape standing at a Muggle telephone booth, trying to figure out what coins to use, pressing the buttons … then he realized that Snape being able to see something one time and then adapt it for his own use was what made him the spy he was. He was obviously putting some of his newfound knowledge to practice. He looked at Hermione. "He's not a first-year, Hermione."

Hermione raised her eyebrows in thought at that. Snape did really seem to want to learn all the Muggle practices they had listed. She supposed that she should just be proud that her "student" was doing "homework".

After dinner, they strolled the streets, walking to the theatre. The lights and sounds of the city awed Ron. Hermione put her arm through his to pull him along when he kept stopping to take in all the sights that were so strange to him. "Come on, Ron. You look like a tourist!"

"Well, I am, aren't I? I've never seen anything like this!" he responded defensively. "This is all new to me! But it's bloody brilliant." He pulled Hermione's arm more firmly to his side as they walked, their heads suddenly closer together.

The Grangers laughed at that. Ellen put her arm through Harry's and the other one through her husbands, as they followed Hermione and Ron. Harry grinned, feeling as if he was living out a fantasy, one that had him belonging to a caring and loving family. This was real, and warm. He imagined that this is what it would feel like if his mother were still alive. In his minds eye, he could see himself walking casually down the streets of London with his parents just like this. It didn't even matter if this musical was a total bore. He could spend the entire time soaking up the feelings of love that emanated from being a part of this group.

Once inside the theatre, Martin led them to their seats. Hermione and Ron sat at one end, with Ellen between Hermione and Martin. Harry sat on the outside, next to Martin. There was one seat remaining on Harry's right, presumably for Snape. Martin talked to Harry about the musical, the inside of the theatre, commented on the orchestra, and in general made Harry feel comfortable. Once again, Harry had a feeling, but this time it was almost a painful one; that this is what it would be like if his father was still alive. The lightheartedness of simply sitting and talking about inconsequential things, not worrying about who he was or what his destiny had made him be. He looked at Martin quickly when Martin laid a hand on his arm.

"Alright there, Harry?"

Harry realized that he had been lost in his own thoughts while Martin had been talking to him. "Sorry, sir. I was just thinking about how good it is of you to do this for us."

"Nonsense," Martin scoffed lightly. "Hermione has told us so much about what great friends you are, this was the least we could do. I only wish we could do more to help you in all the struggles you seem to have."

Harry looked at Martin, a little surprised at that. What had Hermione told her parents, anyway? Somehow, he managed to change his expression to one of question and Martin continued, "I feel as if she has probably only told us the bare minimum, of course. But I know my daughter, Harry. Some of the things she tells me have me worried for you. For you all, really."

"Well, sir, the teachers all do a great job keeping us safe. Especially Headmaster Dumbledore."

"And Severus, too." Martin nodded, his voice confident. "You're fortunate to have a man like that as a teacher. He's very conscientious and intelligent. I've really enjoyed our talks and such."

Harry couldn't help his surprise at Martin's confident assertion, but he nodded in return.

Martin turned to his wife then, and Harry took the opportunity to let his eyes wander over the theatre and the audience and the orchestra as it warmed up.

As he idly perused the gathering crowd, he felt the hair on the back of his neck start to stand up, as if he were being watched. With his attention sharpened, he began looking around again, this time paying more attention to who and what he was seeing. On the second time through, he found himself suddenly looking into the black eyes of the Potions Master across the theatre from him. Beside him, and also looking directly at Harry, stood Lucius Malfoy. Harry was so startled, his mouth dropped open, and he saw the senior Malfoy throw his head back in laughter. Then Harry noticed that beside them also stood Draco and Narcissa Malfoy. All of them were looking at Harry and the rest of the Granger party with amusement. Harry surged to his feet, breathing fast, hand reaching for his concealed wand.

Down the row of seats, Ron and Hermione looked at Harry and seeing his expression of panic, they swung their focus to where Harry was staring. Immediately, they stood up as well, hands going to their sides, where their wands were in the pockets of their Muggle clothing. The smiles left the Malfoy faces and Lucius turned to Snape, seeming to speak angrily, obviously upset that the Trio would dream of pulling their wands at him here. Snape looked back at Harry as Lucius made a gesture with his silver snake-headed cane in their direction. Snape shook his head, answering the blond man. Lucius seemed to be listening, and whatever Snape had said appeared to satisfy him, because he nodded curtly, and then turned away. With one last withering glare at Harry, he ushered his wife and son before him to find their seats. Snape caught Harry's eyes again, and this time the message was unmistakable: '_Sit down you idiot Gryffindor! Remember where you are!'_

Harry slowly sank back into his seat, feeling as if he had forgotten to breathe while this had been going on. What were the Malfoys doing here, in Muggle London? What was Snape doing with them?

Beside him, Martin laid a concerned hand on his arm again. "Harry? What is it?"

Looking past Martin to Ellen's worried face and then to his two best friends, he took a deep breath and finally felt able to say calmly, "It's just someone I didn't expect to see here, that's all. I don't think we need to be worried about it, though."

Beyond her mother, Hermione was looking decidedly worried anyway, and Ron was grimacing. They sat back down as Harry gave them a meaningful stare, hoping that they would let it drop for now. Snape was right. They had to consider where they were. Especially seeing as how they were underage and the use of magic outside Hogwarts was forbidden. He could only imagine the trouble they would be in if they let fly with some hexes in the midst of such a huge Muggle gathering.

Looking back at Martin he attempted a shaky smile. "I saw Professor Snape, too. I'm sure he'll be here in a moment."

Martin and Ellen looked back and forth between all the teens, before settling back in their seats. Martin nodded and smiled back. "Good. I know you'll feel safer once he's with us."

Harry managed to keep his smile in place until Martin turned back to his wife. Then he looked back at Hermione and Ron, who were still leaning forward to see past the Grangers at Harry. Harry gave them a brief shake of his head, making sure they saw him withdraw his hand from his pocket, leaving his wand hidden. Hermione looked as if she wanted to say something, but at that moment, her eyes widened and beside her, Ron's face paled beneath his freckles. Harry could feel Snape's presence behind him. With a last encouraging glance at his friends, he turned to the man sitting down in the seat.

Snape was holding out a hand to Martin. "I am sorry to be late. There were business matters that could not be put off." He broke off to glance meaningfully at each of the teens. "I trust my charges have been behaving themselves appropriately?"

Martin shook Snape's hand, clasping it with his free one. "I'm just glad you're here, my friend. Harry just saw someone who seemed to give him a start. The kids are a bit nervous still."

Snape took in the worried looks of the Grangers and his demeanour softened slightly. With a small smile, he spoke calmly, "I'm sure we can deal with whatever difficulties arise. But I seriously doubt there is need for concern."

Martin and Ellen smiled in relief and turned back to conversing with each other. Snape's features hardened again when he glared at Ron and Hermione. They sat back in their seats after giving Harry one last concerned look. Snape sat back in his own seat, resting his elbows on the arms and clasping his fingers together in front of his chest. Harry tried to relax, but his thoughts were spiralling between the desire to confront Snape right here and now, and the thought that he should remain calm at all cost. As he struggled with this, the lights in the theatre began to go down, and the orchestra struck up the beginning notes.

Beside him, he heard Snape's voice, loud enough for Harry, but only for his ears, "It is not unusual for wizards to attend Muggle events like this. I knew that the Malfoys often do so. By meeting you here, I was able to avoid them seeing any questionable interactions between the Grangers and myself. As far as the Malfoys are concerned, they believe that I am here to ensure your proper behaviour. I told them that Dumbledore does not trust you and that I was forced to be your watch dog." He glanced at Harry in the darkening theatre, and Harry could see the stage lights glinting in the black eyes. "A few looks of deep distrust and loathing of me would not be remiss, should we encounter them again while we are here."

Harry looked back at the stage as the first scene began. "That shouldn't be too hard," he muttered grimly. "Did you enjoy seeing us panic as much as they did?"

"No. I was in a near panic myself when I saw you go for your wands," Snape responded smoothly. Then with almost a snarl, "Do you have any idea the disaster it could be if you used magic here-"

"Yeah," Harry interrupted. "Believe me, that's about all that kept me from sending a few curses in Malfoy's direction. That and my surprise at seeing you." He turned to look into Snape's eyes. The green ones met black in the near darkness. _'Tell me again that it's a deception. Tell me that I am not the one being deceived.'_

Darkness swallowed them and before there could be an answer, Act One began.


	18. Chapter 19

**Chapter 18: Parallels**

_**A/N: All lyrics to Phantom of the Opera belong to Andrew Lloyd Weber et al and any productions thereof. I am just borrowing them for a moment as my characters (also not belonging to me but to JKR) attend a great Muggle production.**_

Harry found it difficult to take in the whole stage at once; there was so much going on. He had never in his life heard such sound or seen such pageantry. Hearing and seeing performances via Muggle radio and television didn't come close to this. For that matter, neither did anything he had ever heard on a wizard wireless. Beside him he heard the Grangers laughing at the leading lady Carlotta and her prima donna antics. The actors looked to be wincing when she began a solo, but Harry thought she sounded grand. Then, his whole view of the play changed when Christine had her turn at the same song. He felt a tug at his heart at the words

…_Flowers fade  
The fruits of summer fade  
They have their season  
So do we.  
But please promise me that sometimes  
You will think of... me! _

Her high note left Harry breathless and transported. How could anyone do that! Compared to Carlotta, hers was the voice of an angel. He had goose bumps on his arms. As he applauded enthusiastically along with the audience, Harry felt Snape's eyes on him again. Harry shrugged and whispered without looking at him, "Now I wish I had read that synopsis Hermione gave us. I might have trouble understanding what's going on. But she's a pretty good singer."

Snape turned his own eyes back to the stage. The boy had not read the story of the play? Snape felt a stab of anxiety that he frowned deeply at. He was familiar with this work, and he hoped that Harry would be able to view it as entertainment as it played out. But knowing now that Harry would not be expecting certain events in the drama meant that it would be prudent to keep a closer watch on him. Perhaps he was concerned for naught, though … Potter was stronger than many gave him credit for …then again, this was not the place for Potter to go into a panic. Seeing the Malfoys had already set him on edge. He would have to have a plan ready for whatever might transpire…

Feeling Harry stiffen beside him, he refocused his attention on the stage. Christine was getting her first look at the Phantom. Seeing it from what was most likely Harry's point of view, Snape saw the Phantom as a Death Eater. From the pale mask obscuring the features, to the billowing black cape, the sinister figure on stage was every inch a dark vision. He had dared to hope that Harry would not make such a comparison.

Snape could hear Harry breathing in short gasps and he leaned towards him. In a calming low voice, he intoned, "It's a play, Potter. Just a play. Relax."

Harry did try to relax more into his seat. The scene before him made him feel queasy. First seeing Malfoy, and then seeing the Phantom looking like one of the Death Eaters, too. Now he really wished he had read that play summary Hermione had presented him with. He wished he knew now what to expect in the rest of the play. At the time, he had been concerned about the OWLs and he and Ron had secretly commiserated about going to a Muggle play. It had seemed like a pretty lame activity, and not one most boys would find entertaining. In spite of his earlier disquiet with Snape, he was sort of glad that he was sitting beside him. His eyes were on the stage; he tried to focus on how beautiful the voice of Christine was…but the words that the Phantom sang seemed to call to something inside Harry, too.

…_Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams  
purge your thoughts of the life you knew before  
Close your eyes, let your spirit start to soar  
And you'll live as you've never lived before _

Softly, deftly, music shall caress you  
Hear it, feel it, secretly possess you  
Open up your mind,  
Let your fantasies unwind  
In this darkness that you know you cannot fight  
The darkness of the music of the night…

That's how Harry felt, like Voldemort was trying to insinuate himself into Harry's mind, manipulating, twisting his emotions; like the Phantom was manipulating Christine, possessing her. How strange that this music about a girl seemed to fit him so well. How extraordinary that he would be here at this moment in his life, after seeing the things he had seen…could mere Muggle music really have such a powerful effect? It had so much magic in it…

Snape looked at Harry in the flickering stage light. He was leaning forward a little in his seat, his hands clutching the armrests. What was he thinking? What was he feeling? For the moment, Harry seemed all right, but there was a frisson of disquiet that had wormed its way into Snape's own mind.

On the other side of Harry, Martin looked at Harry and then at Snape. He raised an eyebrow in question at Snape's apparent concern. Snape gave him a small smile of reassurance. Martin looked satisfied with that and turned his attention back to the stage. Snape pulled his eyes from Harry and turned back to the drama on stage. He suddenly felt that he was being watched and after determining that it wasn't by any of the people next to him, he began to survey the audience members that he could see clearly. Not seeing anything, he let himself examine the feeling, to see if it had any distinguishing characteristics that might identify the 'intruder'. With abrupt clarity, he knew it was Lucius Malfoy. The man was probing and attempting his own brand of leglimancy to see if the story Snape had given him measured up to the evidence he saw. While he knew that his own abilities to occlude were far more powerful than Malfoys weak leglimancy, he felt that it would be prudent to strengthen the outward appearance of dislike of his theatre companions. Snape let his eyes move idly from the stage over to Harry and the Grangers. He let a sneer of disgust twist his mouth as he observed their involvement in the play. The frisson of unrest was steadily growing. Now Snape knew that the Malfoys would seek them out at intermission. The opportunity to bait Snape and throw barbs at the others was not one that Lucius, or Draco for that matter, would be willing to pass up. Snape began to formulate a plan, and think of a way to warn the others.

Onstage, the final part before intermission was playing out. The actors were at the masquerade, and the Phantom suddenly appeared in their midst, taunting, threatening. Harry stiffened beside Snape again. The mask of the Phantom was even more sinister now, his vocal tones harsh, his words cutting and scathing. Snape could almost feel Harry getting ready to bolt out of his seat. Trying to be unobtrusive to any observers, Snape crossed his arms over his chest. His right hand rested underneath his left arm and with it he grasped Harry's right upper arm in a tight hold. Harry jerked back and looked quickly at Snape, his mouth open to protest. With a quick shake of his head, Snape managed to avoid looking at Harry.

Harry in turn looked back at the stage. Having Snape grab him was not something he would have thought would calm him, but strangely enough, it did just that. It reminded Harry that this was still a play. That was not a Death Eater down there. It was not some weird incarnation of Voldemort. Harry was again aware of feeling very glad that Snape was beside him tonight. What if he had not come? What would he have done on impulse upon seeing the Malfoys? What would he have done when this Muggle musical production began to strike an unreasonable fear into his core?

The audience was suddenly on its feet in wild applause. Harry stood with the Grangers and the tight grip on Harry disappeared as Snape began to applaud as well. Taking the opportunity at hand, Snape motioned with a hand that Harry should look at him. As they continued to clap, Harry looked up into Snape's eyes.

'_The Malfoys will be coming- warn Granger and Weasley to play along. Do not for any reason leave my side. Do you understand?'_

'_Yes. What about Hermione's parents?'_

'_Leave it to me. And you are to leave your wand in your pocket. No matter what Draco or Lucius might say to provoke you.'_

The house lights came up then. The Grangers were asking the teens what they thought of the play. Hermione and Ron were casting questioning looks at Harry. Harry gave them a weak smile.

"I would have been better prepared if I had read the synopsis Hermione gave me," he admitted, shrugging apologetically.

Hermione narrowed her eyes, ready to chastise him for this, but before she could say anything, she was suddenly looking over Harry's shoulder. Harry noted her deep breath and Ron's grimace.

Harry raised an eyebrow and mouthed, "Malfoy?" When they both nodded, he stepped over to them without turning towards the arrivals. Leaning forward, he muttered quickly, "Snape is handling it. Act like you still hate him. Don't let yourself be tricked into reacting."

They both nodded as Harry turned to face the Malfoys. Ron was muttering under his breath, "I do still hate him you know. No acting necessary."

Harry ignored that comment in favor of watching the advancement of the Malfoy family. Snape was bowing stiffly and curtly over Narcissa's hand. Lucius was eying the Grangers speculatively.

Draco was smirking at the Trio. The Grangers were smiling, Martin holding out a friendly hand in greeting. Harry wanted to slap his hand down before a Malfoy could touch him and he knew Hermione and Ron felt the same way.

Martin was speaking jovially, "Hello. Are you friends of Hermione and Severus? From Hogwarts?"

Lucius gave one of his trademark sneers that Martin, not knowing any better, was easily able to mistake for graciousness.

"My son, Draco, is in the same year as Miss Granger. We have been family friends with Severus for- well, for a very long time. In fact, we are more like family than friends." He threw a meaningful look towards Snape. "Severus and I run in the same- circles." He eyed Martin's hand with a look of slight disdain until Martin lowered it with a faltering smile.

Harry bit his tongue to keep from responding to Malfoys hidden meaning. Ellen was smiling at Narcissa, who was simply looking at her with a cool but bored expression.

---------------

Draco advanced until he stood next to the Trio. In a voice inaudible to all but them he asked, "Enjoying the play? Pretty good for Muggle fare." He turned his eyes to Harry. "Able to stay awake now, Potter? It would be a pity if you missed the grand finale. I think it will remind you of an important event."

"Shut up, Malfoy," Hermione hissed.

'What?" Draco asked with wide-eyed question. "Didn't you realize? Harry probably feels like this could be the story of his life… except he's a guy, and he doesn't sing." He looked at Harry again, smirking, "Does it make you miss your mum and dad?"

Harry's hands clenched into fists. How could Draco know what he was feeling? Surely he was just guessing. And what did he mean about it reminding him of something?

'Or maybe it makes you wish some Phantom would come out to tell _you_ which side to be on," He grinned with anticipation as Harry took a step forward.

Harry knew that he was heading towards giving Malfoy the reaction he was trying his best to exact when he felt his own fists clenching, itching to reach for his wand. "I know what side to be on, Malfoy, and it's not yours-" he started hotly.

--------

Lucius stared at the Grangers for another moment before ignoring them and turning to Snape. "I have to give you credit for putting up with this burden, Severus. It seems Dumbledore does indeed keep you on a close leash. Your new acquaintances are not quite your usual preference. I trust you will use the opportunity to our advantage." He raised an arched brow. It was not a question regarding Snapes loyalty to Voldemort. Lucius was letting him know that there was an expectation that Snape would get something out of this for their side.

Snape narrowed his eyes and lifted his chin in silent response to Lucius' remark. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that Draco had advanced on the Trio. Harry appeared to be holding his own, but Snape could sense that it was a close thing. Draco must be pushing hard, hoping to provoke a confrontation. The thought that the Malfoys would endanger themselves in a crowded Muggle place to do this to Harry and the others made Snape realize how eager Voldemort and his followers were to find anything that might be a weakness to be exploited. The look in the older Malfoys face was still suspicious. He was now looking back at the Grangers with a new interest, and Snape realized that it was the look a predator gives to a new kind of prey. It was a look that spoke of taking the prey without regard for hunger or whether or not it was palatable; prey that would merely be a playful distraction for a few moments. The Grangers were remaining silent, their eyes moving uncertainly from the young people and then back to Snape and Lucius.

Before Snape could respond verbally, he saw Harry stepping toward Draco.

------------

Snape stepped in between them at that moment. "This is not the time for Gryffindor idiocy, Mr. Potter." He said warningly. Harry threw him a look that felt adequately hate-filled. He hoped that the Malfoys were satisfied that his feelings towards Snape were negative. In truth, he was more than a little irritated at the man for not being allowed to finish even a verbal rejoinder to Draco's offense.

The house lights flickered, signally that intermission was drawing to a close. The audience members who had been on their feet began to make their way back to seats. The Malfoys nodded a final brief acknowledgment and turned as one to walk away.

Snape took in a slow deep steadying breath, waiting for the rest of his party to seat themselves. At least disaster had been avoided at this particular moment. Snape could only hope that the luck would last through the rest of the evening.

As he took his own seat, Martin leaned over, "I'm sorry that your friends didn't seem to approve of your company, Severus." He was searching Snapes face for clues about what had just transpired.

Snape leaned across Harry. "Martin, those were not friends in the way you mean. There is nothing for you to be sorry for. I'm sure your daughter has told you about people in our world who hold to old prejudices?"

Martin nodded, "She has mentioned that there are parallels between the cultures regarding beliefs that some bloodlines are superior to others."

"The Malfoys are some of those who insist that those in our world who are pure-blood are better than everyone else," Snape confirmed. "They are wrong." When Martin looked back at him for a long moment, Snape added, "Their pure-bloodedness makes them narrow minded and in many ways seem less in touch with their humanity."

Martin looked thoughtful and then angry. "They think our Hermione is less worthy than they are, don't they?"

Snape nodded. Looking Martin firmly in the eye, he said levelly, "Like I said, they are wrong. Your daughter is worth more than a dozen of them together."

Martin gave Snape an appreciative smile. "Thank you, Severus. Since we discovered Hermione's abilities, I've always been afraid that there would be these kinds of difficulties. I hoped that your world would be different in this regard."

"Unfortunately, neither of our worlds is as tolerant of differences as they should be. There will always be those who place themselves above others based on misguided notions of societal class." Snape stated easily. "I for one have found it incredibly gratifying to become friends with you. Frankly, a few months ago, I would have doubted the sanity of any one, wizard or Muggle, who told me I would be having this conversation."

Harry was just sitting there between them, trying to take in the words that Snape was saying. Was this really the black bat from the dungeons of hell? It took a conscious effort to keep his mouth from dropping open at the comments Snape made about Hermione to Martin. And Snape calling him 'friend'? He felt all that he had thought he knew about the Potions Master must have been in error. The man sitting beside him was certainly not the one he had been seeing in the classroom for the last five years. He would have to remember the words carefully so he could repeat them to Hermione and Ron later. Perhaps they could make sense of it together. Harry paused in thought as the lights were going down again, and the orchestra was starting its reprise. On both sides of him Snape and Martin leaned back into their respective seats.

On stage, the music again reached into places inside Harry that he never realized existed. Just the tonal qualities served to increase the tension Harry was feeling. Something was coming… something that Malfoy had said would remind Harry of something… Christine arrived at a cemetery.

Harry felt his stomach plummet. He felt like he had been slammed back into his seat and was being held there against his will. While some part of him knew this was unreasonable, the most of him wanted nothing more than to get out of the theatre as quickly as possible. His ragged breathing already had Snapes attention. Again, Harry felt his upper arm gripped by the firm hand of the teacher.

_You were once  
my one companion . . .  
you were all  
that mattered . . .  
You were once  
a friend and father -  
then my world  
was shattered . . .  
Wishing you were  
somehow here again . . .  
wishing you were  
somehow near . . .  
Sometimes it seemed  
if I just dreamed,  
somehow you would  
be here . . .  
Wishing I could  
hear your voice again . . .  
knowing that I  
never would . . .  
Dreaming of you  
won't help me to do  
all that you dreamed  
I could . . .  
Passing bells  
and sculpted angels,  
cold and monumental,  
seem, for you,  
the wrong companions -  
you were warm and gentle . . .  
Too many years  
fighting back tears . . .  
Why can't the past  
just die . . .?  
Wishing you were  
somehow here again . . .  
knowing we must  
say goodbye . . .  
Try to forgive . . .  
teach me to live . . .  
give me the strength  
to try . . .  
No more memories,  
no more silent tears . . .  
No more gazing across  
the wasted years . . .  
Help me say  
goodbye_

Harry couldn't help it. He leaned into the grip of the hand on his arm. He needed to feel that solid nearness. The music was drawing him into memories of that night of the Triwizard Tournament when the cup Portkeyed Cedric and him to the graveyard where Voldemort was reborn. Harry had seen such fleeting images of his parents. To see them only to lose them immediately again had been as much of a trauma as seeing Voldemort take shape. Those visions of a year ago rose up to assault his senses afresh, the grief and helplessness washing over him like a tidal wave.

On stage, the sword duel between the Phantom and Raoul brought back the duel Harry had fought with Voldemort that night. Like the Phantom, Voldemort had escaped the hand of death, living to torture his obsessions again. Harry looked up into Snapes face. His green eyes were wide and haunted. Snape could see and understand the torment Harry was feeling without even trying. He was shocked to feel the depth of despair surging from the boy at his side. He himself had not been in the cemetery when Riddle arose from the cauldron. He had seen the events in the penseive after Dumbledore had retrieved the memories from Harry's mind. He had been torn between feeling glad not to have been present and wishing he could have witnessed the Priori Incantatum. But he knew he would have had an extremely difficult time masking his elation when Potter had won yet another round with the Dark Lord. This had definitely not been the best production for Harry to see. Harry's mind was now on those white masks and black robes, seeing in the Phantom his own nemesis, feeling all that had been stripped from him over his lifetime.

B 

_A play. Remember? This is a play. Not the story of your life, Harry._

Isn't it?

Back on stage, Raoul had asked Christine to be the bait, as it were, to capture the Phantom once and for all. Harry looked up at Snape, his eyes a bit wild.

_Is that what I am, then? Bait to lure Voldemort out and kill him?_

_You know you're not. This is a play. Remember, Harry? Not the story of your life._

_Isn't it? _

ack on stage, Raoul was asking Christine to be the bait, as it were, to capture the Phantom once and for all. Harry's eyes were now a bit wild when he looked at Snape again.

'_Is that what I am, then? Bait to catch him?'_

'_You know you are not. This is a play. Remember, Harry? Not the story of your life.'_

'_Isn't it?'_

'_It will be over soon.'_

'_The play or my life?'_

'_The play will be over and you will discuss it with your friends.'_

'_They won't understand how this feels…why it hurts…I don't understand it…'_

'_I am here, Harry.'_

_You have come here  
in pursuit of  
your deepest urge,  
in pursuit of  
that wish,  
which till now  
has been silent,  
silent . . .  
I have brought you,  
that our passions  
may fuse and merge -  
in your mind  
you've already  
succumbed to me  
dropped all defences  
completely succumbed to me -  
now you are here with me:  
no second thoughts,  
you've decided,  
decided . . .  
Past the point  
of no return -  
no backward glances:  
the games we've played  
till now are at  
an end . . .  
Past all thought  
of "if" or "when" -  
no use resisting:  
abandon thought,  
and let the dream  
descend . . .  
What raging fire  
shall flood the soul?_

Harry could barely breathe through the rest of the play. His heart was pounding, and he felt trapped in his seat. He closed his eyes, determined not to let panic overwhelm him. He hated this weakness over a stupid Muggle play! How could anyone think of him as being a saviour when he reacted like this to simple music? He kept repeating Snapes words to himself like a mantra; _this is a play, this is a play._

Harry thought his head would explode along with his heart if he had to endure any more, but then the end came at last. It was an ending that he identified with even more than anything that had come before.

_Child of the wilderness  
Born into emptiness  
Learn to be lonely  
Learn to find your way in darkness  
Who will be_

_there for you  
Comfort and care for you  
Learn to be lonely  
Learn to be your one companion  
Never dreamed_

_out in the world  
There are arms to hold you?  
You've always known  
Your heart was on its own  
So laugh in your loneliness  
Child of the wilderness  
Learn to be lonely  
Learn how to love life that is lived_

_alone  
Learn to be lonely  
Life can be lived  
Life can be loved  
Alone_

At his side, Snape kept the hold on his arm as Harry continued to lean into the solid security. Harry was shaking, and Snape could sense the struggle for control. Even without the mind connection, he was feeling all the raw emotions that were raging within the boy. He was glad to have the distraction of the audience rising to its feet so that he could draw Harry to his own feet. It was unsettling to realize that his own connection with Harry was growing rapidly beyond the need for eye contact. He raised his own level of Occlumency, blocking the emotions of the boy from his own mind. This was a level he used only in the presence of the Dark Lord. He needed to have a clear head right now. He feared that this emotional flaying had rendered Harry unable to handle another confrontation with the Malfoys. They would most certainly attempt to press any advantage they might sense. Perhaps he could encourage a rapid exit and avoid another encounter. Looking down the row, he caught Hermione and Ron looking their way. They were looking at Harry, seeing the withdrawn and pale expression. Snape motioned Ron to come closer and Ron made polite excuses to pass by everyone. He hesitated in front of Harry and when Harry didn't look at him, he looked up at Snape in question. Snape made another motion with his head to get Ron over to his other side.

Once Ron was there, Snape lost no time, "It is imperative that we avoid the Malfoys. Harry will not be at his best for another round. Get the Grangers home as quickly as possible. I am returning Harry to Hogwarts tonight."

Ron looked as if he wanted to argue. After all, they had planned a fun weekend with Hermione's parents. Another look at his friend convinced him that Snape probably knew what was best for Harry at this moment. The hazel eyes searched the black ones, then, as if seeking more reassurance. Not finding any, he sighed, "I guess if Harry trusts you, I have to as well. At least for now," he tried for a threatening tone.

Snape smirked derisively. "While I applaud your loyalty, Mr. Weasley, at the moment we have more pressing issues than our mutual doubt. If you should meet the Malfoys again, you will do your utmost to avoid unleashing your Gryffindor bravery in the form of reckless hexing. I am charging you with the safety of the Grangers. Do not prove that trust ill-placed."

Ron drew himself up, staring back at Snape, his jaw set. "And what do I tell them if they ask about where you are?"

"You may say that Harry felt unwell and I am taking him to Madame Pomfrey. The Malfoys, if you see them, should be told that Harry was being difficult and I cut his weekend short." Snape said, as he took Harry's arm. With one last nod at the Grangers, who were looking on at the exchange, Snape maneuvered Harry through the crowd to disappear among the sea of faces.

OooOooOooOooOooOooOooOooOooOooOooOooOooOooO

_A/N: So sorry about this confusion! I seem to have a difficult time editing stuff already posted and wind up deleting it…the only way I could get it back in order was to combine some chapters, unless I deleted the whole story and started over! So enjoy this double chapter!_

**Chapter 19: Child of the Wilderness**

_**A/N: Disclaimer-I do not own the lyrics or music from Phantom of the Opera; the original classic is by Gaston Leroux; play/movie music by Andrew Lloyd Webber; lyrics for play/movie by Charles Hart and Richard Stilgoe. I am just using their wonderful works while I play in the HP (also not owned by anyone but JK Rowling) sandbox!**_

Snape managed to find an unoccupied alcove as they left the auditorium. Pulling Harry close to his side and gripping his arm even tighter, he Apparated to Diagon Alley. Never relinquishing his hold, he pulled Harry along as he strode to Knockturn Alley. Once there, he entered the shop where he acquired most of his darker potions ingredients. He was well-known here, and his presence and the use of the Floo Network were not questioned. The few interested stares at the boy at his side were quickly averted under the baleful, grim glare of the Hogwarts Potions Master. Throwing a handful of Floo powder into the grate, he called for his own quarters at Hogwarts.

As soon as he stepped out into his rooms, he turned Harry to face him, looking into his eyes. The green eyes were unfocused and stared out over Snape's shoulder. Gripping Harry's shoulder with one hand, he snapped his fingers in front of Harry's face. For a brief moment, the eyes seemed to settle on Snape's before skittering away. Snape pushed him onto the sofa, leaning him back. Quickly, he strode back to the fireplace and threw another handful of Floo powder. "Albus! I need you here in my quarters. Harry is with me."

Before he could get back to the sofa, Dumbledore had stepped forth in a loud whoosh of flames. He hurried over and sat down beside Harry. After a brief look at the silent boy, he looked up at Snape, who was taking a deep breath of relief now that he was not solely responsible for Harry. He had felt his unease growing when Harry had not spoken once since the end of the play, not even to protest the rough handling of the teacher as he directed his steps to this point. Looking into Dumbledore's eyes, he conveyed in seconds most of what had transpired that evening. With a nod of understanding, Dumbledore turned back to Harry.

"Harry?" He put a gentle hand under the boy's chin and turned the pale face towards him. "Harry, look at me." The concerned blue eyes searched the green ones, probing ever so gently. Harry frowned after a few moments and then looked around in question. He seemed to shake himself out of reverie with great difficulty.

"Where are we?" Recognizing Snape's quarters, he frowned more. "Why are we here?"

"Harry, what is the last thing you clearly remember?"

Harry tried to think past the music in his head and put up a shaking hand to his forehead, rubbing absently. "Music … too much of it. Too real … oh Merlin …" The notes and words swarmed over him again, the end of it all. Harry put both hands up to grip the sides of his head.

_Child of the wilderness  
Born into emptiness  
Learn to be lonely  
Learn to find your way in darkness_

Who will be there for you  
Comfort and care for you  
Learn to be lonely  
Learn to be your one companion

Never dreamed out in the world  
There are arms to hold you  
You've always known your heart was on its own

So laugh in your loneliness  
Child of the wilderness  
Learn to Be lonely  
Learn how to love life that is lived alone

Learn to be lonely  
Life can be lived life can be loved alone

He raised his eyes to Dumbledore, but the blue ones did not have what he sought. Looking farther up, he found the black eyes of his teacher. There it was. The anchor he needed. His breaths came out harsh and panting. He pushed the music out towards Snape and Snape stepped back with the force of it. Harry silently screamed, _'I don't want to be alone! I don't want to learn how to be lonely!'_

Snape dropped to his knees in front of the sofa. He took Harry's hands in his own, squeezing them hard as Harry continued to lock wild green eyes with his. _'You are not alone. I am here.'_

Dumbledore hid his own surprise as Harry calmed. The connection between the man he considered son, and the boy he loved just as much, was stronger than he had thought. He knew that it was not a choice the man would have made on his own. But it did please him that they were sharing this kind of bond. Whether or not each of them realized it, it was a bond that they would need to survive. Whether or not either of them liked it, it was a bond that would draw them into deeper understanding of each other.

Harry's eyes slowly closed and he slumped back against the back of the sofa. Snape stood back up, gently laying the boys hands across his chest. Reaching over, he pulled a light afghan off the back of the sofa and spread it over Harry. Dumbledore stood up and, just as gently, lifted Harry's feet up until he lay full length on the sofa. After giving the afghan another adjustment, he turned to Snape. Before he could even ask, the thoughts began to pour out.

'_Yes, our link has grown significantly in a short time. I believe the trauma of the play hastened it, actually.'_

'_I am only familiar with the written work of Gaston Leroux. Was the play so very different?'_

'_The music and lyrics are intense. I believe Harry saw a connection between himself and the lead character, Christine. The Phantom did look extraordinarily like a Death Eater, and his consuming desire to own the girl was much like the Dark Lord's obsession with Harry. The music is what he was drowning in.' He_ added the images and sounds of the musical to his mental words, along with some of the words Harry was hearing in his own mind.

Dumbledore gazed fondly down at the now sleeping boy. Aloud, he spoke softly, "So much trouble for one to endure; even to the extent of being effected so rudely by Muggle music … I'm glad he has you, Severus." He looked back at Snape. _'And I am glad you have him, as well.'_

Snape scowled at that, and then he turning away, he spoke aloud, "I have whatever potions he might require if he awakens. If you have no objections, he may stay here where I can watch him."

"I have no objection, Severus. I will have Madame Pomfrey come down to give him a look, so she will be aware should she be needed. For propriety's sake, you should keep the Floo connection between the hospital wing and your quarters open as long as he is here."

"I agree. As much as I detest losing my privacy, it is a small sacrifice if it can avert any nasty rumours. Merlin knows neither of us needs that aggravation."

When Harry awoke, he found himself remembering everything that had happened, including what he could only think of as a childish dependence on Snape. Flushing with embarrassment, he sat up quickly and dropped his head into his hands groaning, "Oh Merlin. I am such an ass!"

"Feeling more yourself, then?" a deep voice asked, somewhat mocking.

He looked up to see Snape standing in the door, a cup of tea in his hand. There was an amused smirk on the teacher's face. Harry rolled his eyes at him. "Yes, thanks. I definitely feel like the idiot Gryffindor you like to go on about."

Holding out his other hand, Snape conjured another cup of tea, and walking over, handed it to Harry. Taking it gratefully, he took a sip. He took advantage of the tea to avoid starting the conversation he knew was coming. Snape let the silence lengthen as he too gathered his thoughts.

Finally, Snape spoke, his voice calm, "We have to talk about it, you know."

Harry looked up at him. "What part? The part where you seem to know exactly what I'm thinking before I do? Or the part where music turns the Boy Who Lived into a quivering mess?" He carefully set the cup down on the side table before covering his face in his hands and groaning again. "Merlin! I bet the Malfoys loved that little show, didn't they? I bet Voldemort can't wait to zap me with some opera … _Avada Opera_! I am such a joke now!"

Snape put his own cup down and sat down next to Harry. Patiently, he waited until Harry looked up at him. "You will cease with the self-recriminations at once." He decided that the music issue had to be addressed first. It was just as well; for he too wanted to avoid talking about whatever link the two of them were developing. "The music affected you in unexpected ways, that's true. The Headmaster and I believe that it is just this particular bit of music that acts on your mind. Its similarities to your own life were clear, and the visual impact of the play was disturbing to your subconscious."

Harry thought about that, then said, "So not all music will cause me to go temporarily insane?"

"You did _not_ go insane," Snape said scathingly, standing to stalk about the room. "The music and the lyrics, along with the plotline, simply overwhelmed you."

"Well, still, I bet Voldemort is thrilled to have _that_ weapon now." Harry sighed.

"The Dark Lord will not find this out. The Malfoys did not witness how the second part of the play affected you. I left with you as soon as it was clear you were not yourself."

"You left everyone else? What will the Grangers think? Are Hermione and Ron alright?"

Snape held up a hand to stop further questions. "I gave Mr. Weasley simple enough instructions to follow. I'm sure they are fine."

Harry was irritated that Snape seemed to assume that this was so without proof. He stood up and turned to face Snape again. "Haven't you checked? The Malfoys could have done anything to them by now."

"The Malfoys were interested in you, not a couple of Muggles and their Muggleborn daughter. Neither are they interested in Mr. Weasley. To them, they are little more than dust beneath their feet." He paused to let this sink in, then said, "Your friends will be coming back later today. Your concern right now should be for yourself."

"Well sorry!" Harry said mockingly. "Excuse me for caring about my best friends and some of the only adults who treat me like I'm a normal person!"

Snape's expression softened for only a moment before he regained his hard derisive look. "I did not say that you should not care about them, Mr. Potter. I meant that at this moment you should be more concerned about setting yourself to rights. You need to understand how this affected you so that it can be avoided in the future."

"But you said it was just that particular play that affected me -" Harry began anxiously.

"I said that we believed it to be so. Whether or not there is some other piece of work that could affect you similarly is not known. Knowing why this one was so powerful will help you to avoid like circumstances in the future." Snape kept his tone matter-of-fact, but inside, he knew that he would be just as anxious about this if it was his psyche they were talking about. Before Harry could get himself worked up further, he added, "I do feel certain that Occlumency will help mute the affects. You will have to take your defences up further."

Harry's shoulders drooped. "That's just great. If I occlude anymore, there won't be any of my mind left open to do anything. I'll be shutting everything out."

"Practice will enable you to occlude at whatever level is necessary and still be able to function in your usual state," Snape assured him.

Harry remained silent for a few minutes, thinking. "Okay. So I need to work even harder at Occlumency. Will you help me?"

"Of course. How else did you suppose you would improve your abilities?" Snape asked darkly.

"I just thought you must be pretty sick of hanging around and helping me all the time." Harry shrugged. "You're supposed to be getting ready for this teaching job, and I'm slowing you down."

Snape narrowed his eyes, biting back the reply that first came to his lips. Harry saw his tightened expression and added, "You're not exactly the babysitting type, after all."

The frown Snape was wearing turned to a perplexed look. "Babysitting?"

Harry rolled his eyes and turned away, walking over to pretend to examine the books in a bookcase. "It's another Muggle word, I guess. A babysitter is what they call someone who watches babies or children; someone who keeps them safe while the parents are away."

Snape considered Harry's words and observed the stiff way he was holding himself as he waited for Snape to reply. He realized that Harry must be thinking that he was a burden and an imposition, as well as annoying. He had braced himself for an expected rejection. Snape searched for words that would be reassuring but not condescending. It would have been true only a few months ago that he would have resented having to be a guardian to the Boy Who Lived. Now he wasn't exactly sure how he did feel, but it wasn't resentful. He knew that the silence had gone on too long when Harry suddenly said, "It's alright. I'll just ask Professor Dumbledore. I'm sure he will -"

"Harry," Snape interrupted him. "Look at me." Snape wasn't sure how this connection was happening, let alone how much more it could grow, or even why it existed. But seeing the beaten-down look in the boy's face made him certain that it was the best way to reach him. He saw Harry hesitate before he turned towards him, keeping his eyes on the floor. Snape remained silent, waiting for Harry to decide if the link was what he wanted right then. After a few minutes of deliberation, Harry finally looked up and into the dark eyes.

'_I do not resent looking after you, Harry. A few months ago I would have, but not now,'_ he admitted. _'I want to help you become strong enough to defeat the Dark Lord. Helping you learn to occlude at the highest level is something I can do for you.' _ When Harry didn't look away, he continued, _'This connection we share is unique. I am not sure how or why it is happening to us, although I suspect the Headmaster knows more than he lets on.'_

'_How can you not resent it? You've never really liked me. You hated my father.'_

'_You are not your father. I should not have disliked you based on my feelings of twenty years ago. Do you think we can move past the mistakes that have been made? If not, I will understand that this is too difficult for you.' _He let feelings of acceptance surge forward into the flow.

Harry closed his eyes then and Snape sighed in resignation. Harry moved to the door of Snape's rooms, before speaking aloud, "I don't know what to do right now. I don't know what it is that I'm feeling. I need to think about it. I need to be sure of what I decide, okay?" Snape nodded. Harry paused before opening the door. "A few months ago, I would have tried to hex you for getting in my mind, no matter that I would be seriously outmatched. Now, I can feel that you mean well, but I don't understand why. It's too weird. Does that make sense?"

"It does." Snape kept his voice carefully neutral. He knew if he moved, Harry would be gone. Perhaps if he remained silent he would work it through and stay. He had no idea how to get the boy to trust him. He knew that Harry was having difficulty coming to terms with their past relationship and animosities, and what seemed to be developing now. He admitted to himself that he was also having great difficulty letting go of the past. He wasn't sure that he would ever be free of its hold.

Harry stood there at the threshold, looking not at Snape's face, but at a safe point over his shoulder. So much had happened in a short span of time. His emotions had been on a Muggle roller coaster. He desperately wanted to share all these feelings with someone, to lay them out and make sense of them. He was beginning to think that this man might be someone with whom he could do this. That thought disturbed him more than he wanted to admit. For so long Snape had been an adversary. Now he seemed almost - _normal_. But he could not let go of the knowledge that he was also a master spy. He was an expert at appearing to be what he was not. What if he was appearing to be becoming this trustworthy figure when he was not that at all? Harry simply could not get his mind wrapped around it. It was like grasping smoke. What seemed to be solid was not once it was in your hand. He suddenly just wanted to be in his own bed, away from here and the temptation to blindly put his trust where his heart wanted to put it. But his brain was rejecting the very idea. Without another word, he slipped out.

Snape stared at the door long after it closed behind Harry. With another deep sigh of resignation, he sat down, taking a sip of his cold tea. With a grimace, he waved his hand, warming it. His own mind was turning the events of the last few months over and over. When had this connection to Harry started? He could not seem to find a moment to pinpoint. It had suddenly just been there, something with a will of its own, growing at a phenomenal rate. The part of him that wanted to hold on to his hatred of James Potter rebelled at the thought of sharing such closeness with his son. The part of him that remembered another pair of kind emerald eyes was glad for another chance at proving his worth as a friend. The carefully cultivated, unbending, harsh Potions Master wanted to avoid having his authoritarian image impaired by this new relationship. It was another juggling act to add to his already overloaded balancing act.

A soft whoosh in the fireplace turned his attention to that direction. Dumbledore stood there, holding his Pensieve in his arms. He gave Snape a knowing smile and set it down on the table. Walking over to the younger man, he waved a hand. A fresh pot of tea appeared, along with two new cups.

"You can't seem to help meddling, old man." Snape frowned deeply.

Blue eyes crinkled at the corners. "I prefer to think of it as aiding a friend in need."

And then more seriously, he said, "Severus, I know this is difficult for you. My faith in your abilities to handle it is unshakable. You have always been strong-willed. Use that trait to help you come to terms with this."

"I have no problem with the strong-will part of me. It's the part that is feeling all soft and compassionate that I am having trouble with." He turned disbelieving eyes to the Headmaster. "Do you know that I actually find the Grangers to be companions worthy of spending time with? They are easy to be with and talk to. There is no pretence or falseness to them at all." He shook his head. "It's very disconcerting."

Dumbledore smiled again. "You are also a worthy companion, dear boy. I expect you thought to find the Grangers to be tedious and uninteresting. How has that changed?"

Snape thought for a few moments. "They have been nothing but gracious. Ellen is a lovely and loving woman. She places her priorities as family and friends first." With a suddenly astonished look, he added, "She reminds me of Lily Potter in that regard. I just realized … she has many of the same mannerisms …"

"I believe that you would find those same qualities in most women who have great hearts. To have raised such a daughter as Miss Granger, she would have to be such a woman. Very similar to Lily." Dumbledore stopped then and waited for Snape to continue on his own. He knew that they would eventually get back around to the subject of Harry. But that first, they would have to explore these other new relationships.

Snape came out of his thoughtfulness to look at Dumbledore. "Martin has become a good friend as well. If you had told me last year that I would count a Muggle as a companion, I would have thought you mad. But to think that I would have a Muggle as a good friend, well, that would have been ludicrous … but he is that. We have played chess … did you know that he used some my own strategies against me?" He appeared lost again in some memories. "We have had quite intelligent conversations. I have enjoyed being in his company more than I thought possible."

"Yes. I suspect the idea that our world was superior was thoroughly shattered by those events," Dumbledore mused.

Snape lifted his chin in affront. "I am not prejudiced against Muggles, Albus. I have only ever …" He broke off, unwilling to continue the thought.

"You only never had any use for them as they were not of our kind?" Dumbledore supplied helpfully.

"Yes, I mean no, of course that's not it," he spat. "I just never thought of Muggles as being interesting. Without magic, I thought they would simply be beings who had to do everything the hard way."

"And yet, you've found that these hard ways may in fact be better ways?"

Snape sighed heavily. "Yes. There are a remarkable number of areas where magic would no doubt be the best, but there are an equally if not greater number of things where their way is by far the best." He thought of the steak Martin had grilled as he said this.

The silence drew itself out in the wake of the conversation. Snape looked over at he Pensieve and then at Dumbledore. "I suppose you want to see what has been happening between Harry and myself?"

"I believe I might be better able to advise you if you allow it, Severus."

Snape thought hard for a few moments. It was annoying to think that Dumbledore thought he couldn't work this out on his own. Or didn't he really trust him after all?

Dumbledore seemed to be aware of those thoughts, because he spoke softly then, "I trust you more than any other one person, Severus. I know you will come to terms with all that has happened. What I want is to offer you another set of shoulders to help carry the load. My connection to you allowed me to hear you tell Harry that you were there for him." He waited until Snape looked into his eyes then said, "I am here for _you_, as well, Severus."

With that, he stood up and walked to the fireplace. With a nod toward the Pensieve, he said, "Use it as you see fit. You know where to find me if you have need." With that, he stepped into the grate and disappeared.

Snape sat staring at the Pensieve for a few moments. He felt so drained by it all. Perhaps it would help to get some of the events laid out for an objective look. Looking up at his ceiling, he thought of Harry and wondered how he was faring in his own quest for answers. Tentatively, he reached out his mind, not at all sure if the link was strong enough to penetrate the next wall, let alone through the entire castle. He got his answer more quickly than he expected.


	19. Chapter 20

Chapter 20: Kinds of Families

Ron stared after Snape pulling Harry along as they slipped into the crowd. Hermione made her way to his side. He looked down at her. "We need to get your parents out before we run into the Malfoys. But if we do, we have to say that Snape took Harry back to Hogwarts because he wasn't pleased with his behaviour."

"What?" she gasped in disbelief.

Ron rolled his eyes. "Come on 'Mione. It's a ploy. Snape needed to get Harry away. I don't know what was happening, but something was wrong. Harry wouldn't even look at me." His hazel eyes conveyed his concern for their friend.

Hermione bit her lip worriedly. Her parents had been talking to a few other patrons since the end of the play, but now they came forward.

Ellen looked around and then asked, "Where are Severus and Harry?"

Ron answered quickly, "Harry wasn't feeling well and Sn- I mean Professor Snape decided to get him back early."

"To Hogwarts?" Martin questioned. "Well, Harry did seem a bit unwell after the play was underway. It was probably best for him to return. I hope it wasn't something from dinner that made him ill."

Hermione glanced at Ron before responding, "I'm sure the Professor will take care of it." Then she smiled and added briskly, "Well that was lovely, but let's get out of this crowd and get home, alright?"

Ellen and Martin smiled at their daughter and they began to make their way to the exit. Ron was scanning the crowd as they moved, looking for distinguishing white blond hair. When they were on the sidewalk of the theatre, he breathed a sigh of relief. A feeling that he knew he had indulged in too soon, when he heard the familiar voice at his back,

"Did you enjoy it, Weasley? A bit above your station, but a simple enough story for even you to grasp." Ron whirled about to see Draco's smirking face. His similarly smirking mother and father flanked him.

Hermione had turned at the voice and was now moving to stand in front of her parents in a protective stance. Lucius smiled wider, and Hermione suppressed a shiver at the predatory glimmer in his grey eyes. Martin had other ideas, though. He wasn't about to be shielded by his own daughter. He placed a hand on her shoulder and moved her gently aside until it was he who had the protective stance.

"Hello again, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy," he said civilly. "I do hope you enjoyed the evening as much as we did."

Narcissa murmured a soft noncommittal "Hm-m-m," as if she could not be bothered to utter words. Hermione briefly wondered if she was as vacuous as she appeared or if it was a carefully cultivated façade. Maybe she simply felt speaking to anyone outside her own circle of friends was beneath her. Maybe she was enjoying being the observer of her husband and son as they played their games.

Lucius raised his chin to an arrogant tilt while looking Martin up and down appraisingly. "We are perhaps not as easily entertained as some. The performance was adequate, I suppose."

Ellen couldn't help but react. "This is an award winning production! It is certainly more than adequate."

Hermione wished hard that her parents would be quiet. She didn't like the feral gleam in the eyes of both male Malfoys. Narcissa appeared more contemptuous at Ellen's defensive outburst.

Lucius was now looking at Ellen in his measuring way. Smirking, he said, "And you believe the reviews given by simple-minded Muggles?"

Martin bristled at the direct barb. "Being a Muggle opinion does not mean it is worthless." Remembering Snape's assertion of Malfoy prejudice, he added, "Neither is that person who has that opinion more or less of value as a human being."

Lucius chuckled in amusement. Ron knew that if he was ever going to step up, it had to be now. "It was interesting to see you again, Mr. Malfoy. But don't let us hold you up from the rest of your evening. I'm sure there are other places where you presence would be appreciated."

"Don't you dare speak to my father like that, Weasley," Draco growled.

Ron assumed an air of innocent surprise. "Like what, Draco? I'm just saying that you all probably have more important things to do than bait Muggles - er - hang about with fellow music lovers." He kept his eyes on Lucius as he spoke, enjoying the tightening of his jaw as he realized that Ron had called him on his rude behaviour.

Lucius looked like he wanted badly to say something else. He settled for stepping back and nodding at them all in an even more arrogant manner. "Until we meet again, then." Giving them all a last glance he added, "Be sure to tell your teacher that I am disappointed to have missed him after the performance. He seems to have a talent for disappearing, along with Potter." With that, he motioned with his cane and was preceded by Narcissa and Draco as they walked away.

Ron watched them until they were no longer in sight. Hermione had moved up beside him and placed her hand in his, squeezing tightly. He squeezed back, looking down at her. Suddenly, he paled and swayed on his feet. "Did I just insult Lucius bloody Malfoy?"

She hugged his arm and smiled. "You sort of did. Well done, Ron. I wouldn't have thought you could hold your temper so well."

Ron drew himself up, regaining his composure in the face of Hermione's praise. "Yeah. I did manage to keep my cool, didn't I? I couldn't let an arrogant git like that get the best of me, could I?"

Martin and Ellen came up beside him then. Ellen looked at him almost as adoringly as Hermione. "I can see why Hermione fancies you."

"Mom!" Hermione cried as she blushed furiously. She ducked her head, but she didn't let go of Ron.

Martin smiled at them all. "How about an ice cream before we go home?"

They were all smiling as they walked away from the theatre.

A limousine was standing at the curb where they passed, laughing and talking. Inside, three platinum blondes wore nearly identical frowns as they watched from behind the privacy-darkened windows. The man was stroking his chin with the head of his snake-headed cane, contemplating how best to settle the score.

The Grangers stayed up until early hours with Ron and Hermione. They were all worried about Harry. Hermione knew her parents would never understand the magnitude of the danger Harry was in all the time, so she had always glossed it over. Now that they knew him better, however, she felt they deserved to know at least part of the truth.

"Harry has never had an easy life. His mum and dad were killed when he was a baby, by the dark wizard Voldemort," she began.

"The one who is after him now?" Ellen asked incredulously. "Didn't he do enough when he killed them? Why is Harry so important to him?"

Ron spoke up, "When Volde- the dark wizard killed his parents, he tried to kill Harry too. But it backfired on him and caused him to become weak. He's been gathering his strength for the last fifteen years. The scar on Harry's forehead is from the curse he used on him. Through the scar Harry can sometimes feel what Voldemort feels."

Hermione took over. "Last year, Harry saw Voldemort regain his physical body. There was some kind of duel between them that ended in another draw. It seems that whenever Voldemort tries to kill Harry, something always happens to give Harry the upper hand."

"That's ghastly. How many times has the boy had to endure these attacks?" Martin asked.

"Something has happened at least once a year since he came to Hogwarts." Ron sighed. "But Harry has never let it get him down for long. He just keeps on doing what he has to do. I wish I were as brave as he is."

Hermione patted his arm, "You are brave, Ron. You're a Gryffindor too, you know. Look what you did tonight with the Malfoys. You spoke right up and let them know you saw the cat and mouse game they were playing with us."

Ron preened a bit before continuing, "Anyway, Harry's relatives aren't any help either. They're Muggles but nothing like you." He shook his head at Ellen and Martin. "They hate anything to do with magic. They had to take him in when his parents were killed and they treat Harry awfully when he's there every summer."

"That poor child," murmured Ellen. "Couldn't he be taken in by another family? One who would treat him decently?"

"Apparently, Harry has to stay with a blood relative for at least part of the summer. Being his mother's sister, his aunt is the only blood relative he has left," Hermione explained. "Believe me, I've thought about it, and if it were possible, I would have asked you to adopt him years ago. He's like a brother to both Ron and me. We hate what he's forced to endure."

Ron nodded in agreement. 'Yeah, my mum and dad would've adopted him too, if it had been allowed. Being with us at the Burrow sometimes is about all he's known about how family is supposed to be with each other."

Martin frowned. "I'm surprised Harry doesn't have a strong dislike for Muggles, if his own family is so horrendous."

Hermione shrugged. "Well, that's Harry for you. He always seems to think the best of people, until he's forced to believe otherwise through their actions."

"He even trusts Snape, I mean Professor Snape, a lot more than I ever will." Ron rolled his eyes.

"What's not to trust about Severus?" Ellen asked curiously. "He's really a nice man, and I'm sure he's a wonderful teacher. From what Hermione had told us, I had thought he would be some kind of fiend."

Ron gaped at that. "If you're an adult, I suppose the perspective is different. When he's your teacher, he is a fiend. He's always dressed in black and his mood is mostly just as black as his clothes."

Martin laughed. "A lot of people wear black, Ron. That doesn't make them a bad person."

"It does if it makes people think you're a Death Eater,." Ron said darkly.

"A what?" Ellen frowned.

Hermione looked sharply at Ron. This really was more than she wanted to tell her parents right now. She took a slow deep breath before answering her mother. "Those who are followers of Voldemort are called Death Eaters. They're branded with a mark that lets him call them to him. They're really bad wizards who will try anything if it might help Voldemort rise to ultimate power."

Ellen exchanged a look with Martin and then frowned at Hermione. "Honey, if there are that kind of witches and wizards around, perhaps it would be best for you to come back home and -"

"This is why I don't like for you to know all the things we're talking about tonight, Mom," Hermione said in exasperation. "No matter how bad some of the people are in the magical world, there are just as many who are just as bad in the Muggle world. The prisons are filled with them, aren't they?"

Her parents exchanged another look, and then Ellen pulled her daughter into a close hug. "You can't blame me for wanting to protect you, Honey. Not that I could do any better a job if you were here all the time, but at least I would know more about what danger and difficulties you and your friends face."

"I know." Hermione hugged her mother in return. "It's hard to be so far away from you, too. But that is where I belong. And you are helping me a lot by helping Professor Snape learn more about Muggles. He's not any different to us in class, but he is nicer when we get together for this. For that, Harry and Ron and I all owe you big!" she grinned.

Ellen held her daughter at arms length and gazed at her fondly. "Perhaps we can have Harry here more. If he's like a brother to you, then we want to make him feel welcome. Especially as his family is so lacking. Do you think he would like that?"

"Oh yes!" Hermione smiled. "Ron's family has really made him part of their family and Harry just soaks it all up. I think he would like to be a part of another family too. Don't you, Ron?"

Ron nodded in agreement. "Yeah. I think he sometimes feels he's imposing or something, but he always seems to be relieved to be included. Stuff like that - sometimes I think he feels like he doesn't deserve a family."

Martin gave a decisive nod of his head. "That's settled then. From here on out, Harry is part of our family too."

They talked awhile longer before they settled Ron in the guest room and everyone said their goodnights. Talking about Harry had made both Ron and Hermione wonder about how he was doing at that moment. Knowing he was back at Hogwarts helped relieve some of their worries, but they hoped that he didn't feel abandoned when he had to go back and they stayed with Hermione's parents for the night. Hermione decided to take Harry something to make up for his shortened weekend. Maybe one of her favourite books…


	20. Chapter 21

Chapter 21 Thinking Things Through

_**A/N: Diclaimer-I do not own the lyrics or music from Phantom of the Opera; the original classic is by Gaston Leroux; play/movie music by Andrew Lloyd Webber; lyrics for play/movie by Charles Hart and Richard Stilgoe. I am just using their wonderful works while I play in the HP (also not owned by anyone but JK Rowling) sandbox!**_

After leaving the dungeons, Harry headed for Gryffindor Tower. Since fifth years were the only ones to get the extended weekend, he ran into lots of people as he walked. Most of them hadn't realized that he had ever gone. Everyone knew Harry never went home on holidays unless he had to. The only other place he ever went was to the Burrow. No one even looked at him in question when they saw him. The thought that no one expected him to be gone for a fun weekend depressed him. Deciding that he didn't want to go to the empty dormitory, he changed course for the Astronomy Tower. It wasn't that he didn't want to be alone right now, because he did. But being in the dorm when all his roommates were still with their families made the fact that he didn't have a family to go to more disheartening.

He climbed the steps to the Astronomy Tower slowly. As it was still daylight, it was empty. When he pushed open the door and stepped out on the flat roof, the sun was bright in his eyes. He closed the door behind himself and sat down to lean against the wall. The stones felt cool behind his head as he leaned back and closed his eyes. The only sounds here were the wind and an occasional hoot as an owl passed on its way to the Owlery. No voices could be heard. Harry thought that the silence was glorious. Here he felt peace, if only for a few moments. Opening his eyes, he could see only the sky over the ramparts. Sitting where he was, no one from the grounds could see him here. No one would even think he would be here since it was only used at night and by couples that wanted to be alone. Thinking of that, Harry waved his wand at the door to the roof and locked it. Right now, he just wanted it to be him and the intensely blue sky above him. He closed his eyes again, drifting in the calm.

Harry dreamed.

Night time sharpens, heightens each sensation  
Darkness stirs and wakes imagination  
Silently the senses abandon their defences

_  
_The white mask of the Phantom floated in the dark mists of dreaming. The music was soft in Harry's ear.

_  
Slowly, gently, night unfurls its splendour  
Grasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender  
Turn your face away from the garish light of day  
Turn your thoughts away from cold, unfeeling light  
And listen to the music of the night _

He wanted to reach out, grasp the music and the darkness as the mask urged him to.__

Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams  
purge your thoughts of the life you knew before  
Close your eyes, let your spirit start to soar  
And you'll live as you've never lived before 

The masked one offered freedom and peace …__

Softly, deftly, music shall caress you  
Hear it, feel it, secretly possess you   
Open up your mind,  
Let your fantasies unwind  
In this darkness that you know you cannot fight  
The darkness of the music of the night  


Can't I fight this darkness? Do I want to fight it? Harry felt pulled out, like his insides were being stretched, towards the figure in black, white mask hovering above …

_  
Let your mind start a journey through a strange, new world  
Leave all thoughts of the life you knew before  
Let your soul take you where you long to be!  
Only then can you belong to me _

Belong to him? Yes, I want to belong to someone … let me come to you …who is this ?

Hands were reaching for him. The hands were a safe haven, a solid anchor. Harry felt himself falling into them.

Floating, falling, sweet intoxication  
Touch me, trust me, savour each sensation  
Let the dream begin, let your darker side give in  
To the power of the music that I write  
The power of the music of the night

His own hands reached out to unmask his Phantom. He had to know who this was that he belonged to. Snape?

You alone can make my song take flight  
Help me make the music of the night

The mask pulled away. Behind it two red eyes and a snake face began a maniacal laugh that quickly escalated as the music thundered in Harry's head.

Harry jerked awake, rising to his feet as he drew his wand. His breathing was harsh as he looked all around the empty roof. He jerked again when he heard a voice.

'Harry?'

"Who's there?" Harry felt like the dream had followed him into wakefulness. He couldn't see anyone, but he knew he had heard a voice call his name. But no one was here on the roof with him. He looked at the door. It was still shut. Over the ramparts there was still only the sound of the wind. The music was fading, and then gone.

'Harry?'

This time Harry recognized Snape's voice. He sat down weakly, dropping his head into his hands. It had been a dream. Just a dream brought on by the memory of the music. Voldemort wasn't really here. It wasn't Voldemort behind the Phantoms mask. Since when did he wear a mask? He wanted people to see his ugly face. Harry sighed, remembering how he dreamed it was Snape behind the mask before he pulled it off to reveal Voldemort. In his dream he wanted it to be Snape. But Harry thought that his awake self certainly did not. How had it happened that Snape managed to be the one he seemed to need – no, he wasn't ready for that at all. Need Snape? Not while he breathed. Well, Voldemort could take care of that obstacle quickly enough.

'Harry!' Snape's mind voice sounded a little desperate.

'Yeah? What?' Harry didn't feel very generous at the moment. It seemed he would no longer be alone with his thoughts anymore. This was just great, he thought sarcastically. Of all the people to share a brain with …

'Are you alright?'

'Just dreaming.'

'Do you need -'

'No. I want to be alone. No thinking, no dreams, no body, no anything. I just need to be by myself. Is that alright with you?' He felt his eyes growing hot as emotion welled up inside. He hated to be weak. He had been weak enough over the last twenty four hours. Now, he shook at the thought that he was so open for anyone to see that weakness, especially Snape. He shouldn't trust him so much. Not after all the years of classroom torment. He resolved that he wouldn't trust him anymore. He could feel the link with Snape; he was still there. 'Leave me alone!' He slammed a mental door.

Far below in the dungeons, Snape slowly sat back down in his chair. He had reached out to see if he could feel Harry when he was not in the same room. Music had been there. Soft at first, the words unclear, but Harry had been listening to it. He had felt Harry leaning into it, wanting it. Then suddenly, there had been terror and he'd known that Harry was frightened. A flash of red eyes and a laugh that he knew too well had reared itself up in Snape's mind. He had called to Harry. The fear had still been there, but there'd been no response to his call. Just as abruptly, the fear had been gone, as was the vision of Voldemort. A dream then?

He'd called again. Rising to his feet, he'd began to reach out more determinedly, seeking a physical place for the mind, needing to go to him if he couldn't reach him in thought. Harry had finally answered, but he'd been abrupt and cut off Snape's questions. He had felt the boy raising his occlusion to shut him out, even before the image of a door had slammed firmly closed.

The blank wall held his probing at bay. Perhaps Harry was getting better at Occlumency without any assistance, after all. With a start, Snape realized that there might have been a way for Harry to unknowingly access Snape's own levels of occlusion. If he could get into Harry's mind, and Harry certainly had not had any difficulty reading him, then it stood to reason that he should be able to use what he found to help himself. The boy had strong instincts for self-preservation. His mind would have unconsciously sought out the knowledge. Snape sat there, unsure about how he felt about that. It was one thing for him to be the stronger mind, the teacher, but entirely another thing for Harry to be so. This was a disconcerting idea, and one he would have to consider carefully.

He looked over at the Pensieve. Sighing, he stood up and walked to the table. Putting his wand to his temple, he began to draw out strand after strand of silvery thought, dropping them into the shimmering liquid in the bowl. Going to the fireplace, he considered what he was about to do. Dumbledore was the only one he had ever trusted for anything. That Dumbledore trusted him was humbling, considering his past mistakes. But it was still very difficult for him to take his troubles to the wise man. He felt like he should be stronger than that need implied. He hated to feel weak. Not knowing what to do about Harry was a weakness; more so because he couldn't let it go. He felt the need of the boy. He had felt all the mental anguish that moved through him at times. He felt a self-loathing at the thought that he himself had caused a great deal of that anguish.

Before he could change his mind, he threw the Floo powder into the grate. "Albus?"

Almost as if he had been waiting, the white haired man's head appeared in the flames. "Severus?"

"Could you come back? I need for you to see -" He stopped , unsure about how to phrase his request.

Dumbledore smiled up at him. "Coming through." With that, he pulled back his head and then his whole body was stepping into the room.

Without needing to say anything, they went to the table. Bending over the Pensieve, they entered into Snape's thoughts.

The Hogwarts Express had returned the fifth-years in time for dinner. Ron had not found Harry in their room, and he and Hermione had gone to the hospital wing. Madame Pomfrey had shooed them away, assuring them that Harry had not been there. The two looked at each other, worry in both their eyes.

Hermione questioned, "Are you sure Professor Snape brought him back here?"

"That's what he told me," Ron said defensively. "He said he was bringing Harry back because he wouldn't be able to stand another meeting with the Malfoys."

"Well, then, we'll just go ask him where Harry is." Hermione started a brisk walk down the corridor and Ron jogged a bit to catch up.

"You think he'll tell us?"

"Why wouldn't he?" Hermione said confidently.

Students were starting to head toward the Great Hall and Hermione led them in and up to the head table.

Looking up at Dumbledore and Snape she said quickly, "We haven't been able to find Harry. Where is he?"

Dumbledore looked at Snape in question. Snape in turn narrowed his eyes in apparent concentration. After some moments, he spoke, "He is coming."

"How do you know that? What did you do?" Ron asked suspiciously.

Snape was looking over their heads towards the doors to the hall. "He is here."

Ron and Hermione turned and looked, but they didn't see Harry. Hermione was about to turn back to the professors when Harry entered. She cast a questioning look over her shoulder at Snape before she and Ron hurried to greet their friend.

Harry was sitting and they took places on either side of him. Harry looked at them each in turn, taking in their worried faces. When he didn't say anything, Hermione gave an exasperated huff.

"Well, what happened, Harry? And how did Professor Snape know you were about to come in here before he saw you?" Her voice was the one Harry recognized as putting up with no excuses.

Harry filled his plate with the food that appeared on the table and said in a low voice, "I'll explain later." Hermione looked like arguing so he quickly added, "I promise, Hermione. I can't talk about it here. It'll be hard enough, but I really can't even try right now."

Ron and Hermione looked at each other over Harry's head. After a few moments, they filled their plates and began to eat, too.

At the head table, Snape sat silently, watching. At his side, Dumbledore spoke quietly, "It will work out, Severus. It's meant to you know."

Snape looked over at him. "What do you mean by that? It's meant to? I knew that you knew more about this than you let on. What are you keeping from me?" When Dumbledore didn't answer, he snarled, "I let you see everything. You better not be keeping something back that has bearing on this."

"Have patience. In due time you will know what I know. I am still considering the implications." Dumbledore looked at him with serious eyes.

Snape sat back from where he had leaned towards the older wizard. "After today, I would think that it would be clearer to you."

"Ah. But you do not have a view of the entire picture. You are only able to see things from your viewpoint at present." He turned his eyes from Snape and surveyed the hall. Students were beginning to finish their dinner. "I had best make my announcements before they start going up to bed."

Dumbledore stood and after his call for silence, he admonished the entire student body to keep up their hard work here in the last weeks of school. Final exams were still to come, as well as the last Quidditch matches. He encouraged studious behaviour from all and wished them end of the year success.

The Trio walked the corridors, but instead of going to Gryffindor, Harry turned and headed to the Astronomy Tower. Ron and Hermione didn't question it. They just followed along. Once outside, Harry looked around carefully. Seeing that they were alone, he locked the door to insure they stayed that way.

After sitting down cross-legged and facing each other, the silence seemed to grow. Finally, Hermione tentatively began: "Harry, we know this must be something big, if you bring us up here, and go to all the extra trouble to see we're not disturbed."

Harry nodded. He took a deep breath and then looked at his closest friends. In the moonlight, he could see the looks of concern creasing their brows. "I seem to have a mind link with Snape now. It's been getting stronger."

Ron's mouth dropped open. "Like the one Vol- You-Know-Who has with your scar?"

Harry shook his head. "No. It's not like that. It's just … we can talk without talking out loud. I think he feels what I feel sometimes, but I don't think I can do the same. I just hear him."

Hermione looked at him for a moment before asking carefully, "How does that make you feel?"

"Well, it's all mixed up in my head. At first it was just a little bit creepy, but I thought I could live with it. Then at the play, I was really glad he was there, or I would've lost it, I think."

"Yeah, what happened at the play, anyway?" Ron asked. "At the end you wouldn't even look at me."

Harry remained quiet for a bit and they knew they needed to let him be the one to break the silence. "The music really affected me, and not in a good way." He looked apologetically at Hermione. "I mean it was beautiful the way Christine sang and everything, but didn't the whole thing remind you of Death Eaters, and Voldemort?"

They frowned more and Hermione shook her head. "It's just a musical, Harry. Death Eaters? Why would you think that?"

"Because that's what I saw when I watched. Voldemort is who I heard when I listened. It was like I was Christine -"

"You were a girl?" Ron said incredulously.

Harry rolled his eyes and then rubbed at his forehead. The twinge was back, slowly worming its way around. It had been building from nothing, so Harry just realized that it was there. He made a conscious effort to raise his occlusion level and was relieved to feel the twinge dissolve back to nothing. He looked up to see Ron and Hermione staring at him.

With a sigh he whispered, "I hoped you would understand."

"Help us to understand, Harry." Hermione reached out and covered one of his hands with hers. "We want to understand. But you seeing and hearing Voldemort in a Muggle musical?"

"Thinking you're a girl?" Ron said, still incredulous.

"Of course I don't think I'm a girl," Harry assured him with an irritated shake of his head. "I meant that I could identify with how she felt."

Ron still looked stuck, and Hermione didn't seem to understand any better.

Harry decided that the effort to try to explain further just wasn't one he wanted to put forth right now. He sighed again. "Anyway, because of how it made me feel, I was glad Snape was there. He understood." For a moment he felt resentful that his two best friends were unable to understand him as well as the professor. "If he hadn't gotten me back, I don't know, I might have wound up in St. Mungo's."

At that, Hermione finally began to see just how bad off Harry must have been. "Oh, Harry! I'm sorry my parents ever suggested it now."

He reached out a hand to her then. "No, don't be. They couldn't have known. I didn't know." He smiled then and remembered what he wanted to tell her. "Besides, I got to hear Snape say you were worth more than a dozen Malfoys."

"What? When was that?" It was Hermione's turn to look incredulous.

Harry chuckled, "It was right after we saw them at intermission. Your dad was upset when he realized that the Malfoys thought less of you because you're Muggle-born. He and Snape discussed how both worlds had their share of prejudice. Snape told him that the degree of prejudice that the Malfoys and others like them had made them lose some of their humanity. Then he said you were worth a dozen Malfoys. Your dad really liked hearing that."

Hermione smiled in the moonlight. "Professor Snape said that?"

"Yes. He really did. You know, it seemed like he and your dad really hit it off,." Harry observed. He was glad to get the conversation away from himself. Hermione didn't appear to mind, but Ron was looking sceptical. Harry saw the look. "You saw it too, Ron. The way they were at ease with each other. Had you ever seen Snape like that before?"

"No. And I don't want to." He shook his head. "Lots of times he's been acting out of character lately. Are you sure he's not playing another role?"

Harry sobered at the thought. He had been thinking along those lines, hadn't he? What if Snape wasn't being honest? What if trust had been misplaced? After this failed attempt at explaining his feelings to his friends, Harry realized that Snape was the only one who had any understanding. The only one who was any good to him in this kind of crisis. That was scary. Summer was coming. Snape was going away to teach summer school. He would be back at the Dursleys. What would happen to him if he had music dreams, or something? Great, another reason to hate summer. Here was another stupid fear to add to his repertoire of things to fear most.

Harry stood up. It was getting late and they needed to get back to Gryffindor. After unlocking the door, the trio made their way to the dorms right as curfew fell. Hermione went up the girls stairs, her face still lit with the words Harry had passed on to her.

Harry and Ron went up to their room. Harry thought about trying again to explain how he felt to Ron. After dressing for bed, he decided that he needed sleep more.

Snape paced the floor of his rooms slowly, unable to sit as he thought about what Dumbledore had said. It was meant to be. What was meant to be? He knew, of course, about the Prophecy concerning Harry. He knew that Dumbledore fully expected it to be true. Is that what he was referring to? It hadn't sounded like it. It sounded more like there was something else; something else just as important that was meant to be. He gave a deep sigh of vexation. Sometimes the old man was so irritating. But at the same time, Snape knew he had his reasons for keeping the cards he played hidden. Dumbledore saw many vantage points in this war between the dark and the light. He mapped out strategies years ahead of when they would be used. Snape knew that he made subtle changes in the strategies as time brought more information to view. The old man had decades of experience, while Snape was relatively young by wizarding standards. No matter how intensely he loathed being left out of this loop, he knew it was for the best. There was always the chance that the Dark Lord would manage to extract any information from Snape, if his role as double agent was discovered. Snape shook himself. It was triple agent now, wasn't it? Knowing he wasn't going to gain any more understanding tonight, he left the rooms to make his customary rounds of the castle before retiring.

Just as he rounded the first corner, Draco appeared, walking towards him.

"Mr. Malfoy? It is past curfew. What are you doing out and about?" Snape growled.

"I needed to speak with you, sir." Draco eyed him levelly. "It concerns some upcoming plans for Mudbloods."

"That term is offensive, as I am certain you are aware, Mr. Malfoy." Snape regarded him closely. "Why would you think I would be interested in these … plans?" He raised an eyebrow in mock question.

Draco looked around the corridor uncertainly now, before looking back at Snape with a set jaw. "We should talk elsewhere, Professor."

Without a word, Snape stepped back to his quarters. He allowed Draco to precede him into the rooms and then he performed an elaborate set of warding charms over the door. Turning back to the blond boy, he spoke calmly, "You may speak freely now."

Draco clasped his hands behind his back and stared at the teacher.

Snape rolled his eyes at the delay. "Well? Why are you wasting my time?"

Without a hint of regret, Draco said simply, "Father is very angry. He doesn't like to be shown up by anyone, not to mention a Weasley. After his last conversation with him outside the theatre, Father vowed to get revenge."

Snape listened to everything the boy had to say, saying nothing in return.


	21. Chapter 22

Chapter 22: Sharing Pain

While the OWLs had been the study focus for fifth-years, that didn't mean they could forego regular exams. Hermione had schedules for them all made out, as usual. Harry thought that he would be glad when it was all behind them, but then remembered that exams being over meant back to the Dursleys and away from his friends. He tried to focus on the positive things, like Quidditch and flying. Knowing that he wouldn't fly all summer made him reluctant to get off his broom after practices.

When he was in Potions class, he avoided looking at Snape. He hadn't tried to press the issue. Harry had been afraid that Snape would try to link minds, talk to him, perhaps even insist on it in his usual arrogant and cutting way. But it seemed almost as if Snape was avoiding him too. He never called on Harry, or commented on his brewing. If he was trying to eliminate the bond they had begun, then Harry thought that was alright.

Ron had told them that his family would be travelling to Romania for part of the summer. Charlie had invited them for a special ceremony celebrating the hatching of rare dragon eggs. It seemed that the Siberian Ruby-Eyed Dragon only laid once a century, and one was due to hatch sometime in June. Hermione and her parents had plans to cruise the Mediterranean Sea. The Dr.'s Granger would be attending a Dental Conference in Rome, and they would all wander the city while there. As Harry listened to them talk about their upcoming summer, he had to try very hard not to flippantly throw out his own plans; _Well, I suppose I might do the yard and plant a few shrubs. The Dursley do enjoy my green thumb. And it might be nice to get beaten once a week, twice if I can talk Uncle Vernon into it. He hates to spoil me too much, you know._ The thought of the looks on his friends' faces was enough to keep him from voicing his thoughts out loud. He hated it when they felt sorry for him. He would simply have to endure his usual oppressive summer, and hope that his cousin and his uncle had other physical outlets for their ire this year.

On Friday at dinner, the table was lamenting how they would have to spend the warm, sunny Saturday studying for finals. The only highlight would be the remaining Quidditch match between Slytherin and Gryffindor. House points were pretty much even, so the winner of the game was sure to win the House Cup. Voices were loud and boisterous throughout the hall. Harry sat laughing with Ron and Hermione, enjoying the camaraderie that came from the last weeks of school.

Grabbing up several pieces of fruit, Hermione stood, saying, "Come on, you two. Let's knock out a session or two tonight and then you'll have more free time after the match tomorrow."

Harry and Ron selected their own snacks for later and left the hall in her wake. In the Common Room, they pooled their food into a basket and began laying out books, notes and parchment. Harry had picked up his quills and ink when it suddenly felt like his left forearm was on fire. He dropped the ink pot, not caring that it splashed ink across the stones as it shattered. He fell to his knees as he yanked up the sleeve of his robe, looking for the source of the agony. Unbelievably, there was nothing to see there. But the pain throbbed until it was reaching his shoulder. He clutched his arm to his chest as Ron and Hermione hurried to his side.

"What is it?" Hermione asked anxiously, as Ron laid a hand on Harry's shoulder.

Harry shook his head, trying to think past the pain.

'_Occlude it, Harry!'_

'_What?' _He lifted his eyes, sure he would see Snape beside him, his voice was so near. He saw only his friends kneeling there beside him on the floor.

Snape's voice came again, _'It's the mark. I am being summoned. You must Occlude as hard as you can. He cannot know that you can feel this.'_

Harry squeezed his eyes shut with a moan_. 'Merlin, I never thought it hurt like this! It's almost as bad as my scar!'_

'_Stop babbling and Occlude! Now, Potter!'_

Harry reached within himself and raised the protective forces of his mind as high as they had ever gone. When he opened his eyes again after several long minutes, he saw Ron and Hermione looking pale and shaken. He smiled weakly. "If you think it _looks_ bad, be glad you aren't on the receiving end."

"Harry, what's going on?" Hermione questioned urgently.

Harry got to his feet, still rubbing his left arm, even though the pain had gone after he successfully occluded it. "Voldemort is calling Snape. His Dark Mark is burning," he said quietly.

"And you can _feel_ that? I thought you could just talk to him in your head. I didn't think you meant he could send actual pain to you." Ron frowned angrily.

'Snape's not sending it to me on purpose. I think I can feel it because he feels it so intensely. He told me to occlude as hard as I can to keep Voldemort from finding out I can feel it."

Harry sat down on the sofa. He wondered what Snape was doing now. Was he in Voldemort's presence yet? What was going on? He realized that he felt worry for his teacher; worry and anxiety that he would be alright. What if Voldemort had found out about the link? What if he asked Snape to take advantage of it? Would he follow Voldemort's orders? Knowing that there wasn't anything he could do at the moment, he looked back at Hermione.

"Quiz me on Charms. Then Transfiguration. That's where I'm weakest."

Hermione gave him a long considering look before taking up her notes and sitting beside him. Ron sat down on the other side and they began to go through Hermione's notes.

Harry was calling out answers to her questions when the scar on his forehead seemed to rip apart. He cried out as he clutched it in both hands. He thought that he would never be able to achieve any higher Occlumency, but the pain spurred him on to try. He could almost hear Snape yelling at him to occlude harder. He was able to subdue it only until it was more tolerable. When he opened his eyes again, he found that he was on the floor, curled into a foetal position, still holding the sides of his head as if to keep it from exploding. Ron was there, rubbing his back. Fellow Gryffindors were gathered loosely around, reluctant to come too close. Harry tried to roll over onto his back, but the agony intensified with movement. He thought he would be sick, and swallowed hard to force bile back down when he felt it coming up.

Professor McGonagall hurried into the room, followed by Hermione. In another moment, Professor Dumbledore stepped out of the fireplace.

McGonagall motioned to all the other students away. "Go to your dormitories. There is nothing to see here. It is being taken care of."

Ron and Hermione stood their ground when she raised an eyebrow at them. Ron shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. "We're not leaving him. Not when he's like this."

Once the room was empty of students, Dumbledore looked at them with piercing eyes. "What happened?"

Hermione summarized, "We were studying and Harry suddenly felt what he said was the Dark Mark as Professor Snape was summoned. He seemed better after he occluded more. He said he heard Professor Snape tell him to do it as hard as he could so Voldemort wouldn't find out about their connection." Dumbledore looked at her sharply and Hermione hurried on, "Harry told us about it the other night after we got back from our weekend trip. Anyway, he was better; we were back to studying and his scar started hurting so badly - well we don't think he was even aware of us anymore. He was on the floor, all curled up and he was in so much pain that Ron and I knew we had to get help."

She took a shaky breath upon finishing.

Dumbledore knelt beside Harry and placed a hand on his brow. Closing his eyes, he tried to reach into his mind. He thought he felt something, but it was not clear and without eye contact, he wouldn't be able to determine anything. He sighed and sat back on his haunches. Legilimency might be an option, but it could be dangerous both to himself and Harry, if it opened a conduit to Voldemort. For a moment, he wished he could connect to Harry as Snape was able to. He bent and spoke softly, "Harry, can you hear me?"

Harry stirred slightly and then nodded, opening his eyes. They were filled with torment and Dumbledore knew he was using everything in him to keep the cries silent and his barrier against Voldemort intact. His breaths were coming rapid and shallow. Dumbledore squeezed Harry's shoulder. "You are stronger than you know," he said softly. "Severus has given you the ability to resist Voldemort as much as _he_ can. Use that, Harry."

Harry closed his eyes again. They could see him draw into himself, focusing his energy. Bit by bit his face relaxed, and he seemed to be breathing slower. The four gathered around him started to relax as well. McGonagall looked sternly at Hermione and Ron. They met her look with determined ones of their own, knowing she was about to try again to get them to leave.

Ron shook his head at her, "Honestly, Professor, how can you think we'd leave? He's our best mate. Whatever he's going through, we're right here with him. You'll have to hex us if you really want us gone."

McGonagall's face softened. She knew they were all as close as friends could ever be. In her heart she knew that the two in front of her would give their very life for Harry. But the teacher and the woman in her wanted so badly to protect all of them from harm. She would give her own life if it meant they would never have to see this war.

Dumbledore stood up and turned to them. "We'll use the Floo to get him to the hospital wing. He will need time to recover." He said that as if he thought Harry was past the ordeal and ready for recovery. He was wrong.

With lightning speed, Harry flew to his feet and grabbed Dumbledore by the front of his robes. His eyes were wide and wild, the green almost electric. "He's got Snape! He's got him! He's hurting him! Oh god -" He would have been climbing up Dumbledore if he got any closer. His fists were bunched in the cloth of the robes, pulling frantically. "Help me! Tell me how to stop it! He's going to kill him! Oh my god!"

The others were standing stunned at the outburst. The sheer force of emotion in Harry had them all shocked into immobility. Dumbledore calmly closed his hands around Harry's. "Minerva, call Poppy. Tell her we need a Calming Draught and sleeping potion for Harry before we can move him." To Harry he whispered soothing noises, breathless incantations for calming his soul and urging him to keep occluding.

Madame Pomfrey Flooed through and with McGonagall's help managed to get Harry to swallow the potions. As soon as Harry fell into unconsciousness, she levitated him to the fireplace and on to the hospital ward. Dumbledore and McGonagall followed close behind.

Hermione and Ron looked at each other, still stunned. They had seen Harry in the throws of pain with his scar before. They had seen him scared, angry, depressed, happy, and sad. But they had never seen the desperate, frantic Harry they just witnessed. They moved into each others arms without a word. Words would be useless anyway.

Madame Pomfrey pulled the covers up to Harry's shoulders. "He should sleep through the night. But this isn't like anything he's been through before. He hasn't been directly cursed, but all the signs he exhibits are as if he were."

Dumbledore looked down at the boy in the bed. Even with the calming draught his face was tense and furrowed. After a few moments, his blue eyes looked at the mediwitch and Deputy Headmistress. His voice was heavy, "You had best get another bed prepared for Severus, Poppy." I'll go down to his quarters to wait for him."

McGonagall looked at him in surprise, "Surely you don't think Potter really felt something Severus was experiencing?"

"Yes, Minerva. He is experiencing whatever is happening at the moment. The link between them has become quite strong."

"But why, Albus? What happened to bring this on?"

"Fate happened." He met her stare steadily. "The First Prophecy concerning Harry has come to pass, at least in part."

McGonagall looked astonished. "First Prophecy? You mean the one Sybill made?"

"I am speaking of the one made by Sybill's grandmother." Dumbledore looked down at Harry contemplatively before continuing. "Actually, Harry is secondary in the First Prophecy. Severus is the one it concerns."

McGonagall's eyebrows disappeared at that. She stared at the headmaster and then she too looked down at Harry. She asked quietly, "How long have you known of it? Does Severus know?"

"I have known about the prophecy since my days as colleague with Cassandra." He looked at McGonagall steadily. "No. Severus does not know of it. Until recently, I have been unsure if he was in fact the one it speaks of."

"Are you certain now?" she asked, her voice holding a hint of doubt.

"What Harry is experiencing right now leads me to believe it."

When Dumbledore didn't elaborate, she leaned towards him impatiently. "Well? What is the prophecy?"

He gave her a small smile. "As much as I take you into my confidence, Minerva, I feel that I must first discuss it with Severus. He already suspects that I know something he does not about the bond he shares with Harry."

She gazed down at the boy. His face was very pale and he twitched frequently. It was not a restful sleep he was having. Not really wanting to know, she asked, "Are you sure he will be coming back?"

Dumbledore looked at her sadly. "Severus is valuable to Voldemort. Unless he betrays him in a way that Voldemort absolutely cannot abide, he won't kill him. He believes that Severus is loyal to him and that he does what he must to pacify me. It may be a close thing, but Severus will come home. We must be ready, though. If Harry's unrest is any indication, he has been terribly injured."

They both turned when they heard the sounds of clearing throats. Ron and Hermione stood there uncertainly. Hermione spoke quickly, "Please, Professors! We can't let him be by himself. We've never seen him this bad before. We need to be here … _he_ needs us to be here."

Both older wizards looked at each other and then back at the two young people by the door. At a nod from them both, Ron hurried to pull up two chairs close to the bed. Hermione laid a gentle hand on Harry's shoulder and whispered, "Harry, we won't leave you alone. We might not understand all that you're feeling about Professor Snape and this link you have … but we love you. Whatever happens, we are your friends. You're our brother …" Her voice cracked with emotion. Ron put a hand over hers. They huddled against the side of the bed then, determined to keep watch. McGonagall conjured a chair of her own and settled on Harry's other side.

Dumbledore looked at McGonagall and then Pomfrey. "I will wait for Severus in his quarters. Be ready. We may have to move him quickly." He strode to the fireplace and disappeared.

Madame Pomfrey began setting up another bed, a table along side it. On this, she assembled an array of bottles and vials. A basin with warm water and clean cloths were laid, as well. Once she sat up a privacy screen, she came to Harry's bedside. After performing several more diagnostic spells, she spoke quietly to Ron, Hermione, and Professor McGonagall, "He won't wake any time soon. The potions have him heavily sedated. You should all take turns and rest, if you insist on being with him."

None of them moved to leave, and after a few minutes, she walked away. Normally, she would insist on her no visitor rules at this time of night. But this had not been a normal situation in the hospital wing. This was not the normal way Harry's hospital stays usually proceeded. She supposed to herself that she could always shoo them out if Severus came in. Feeling like she was as ready as she could be, she retreated to her office to wait.

A little after midnight found Ron leaning against the window, staring out into the black night. Hermione had laid her head on the bed as she leaned against it. McGonagall was dozing in her own chair. The Floo roared to life. Dumbledore's voice shouted urgently, "Poppy! I need you on this side." She hastened to answer his summons, vanishing in the flames.

Ron stood away from the window and looked at Hermione. She stood up with McGonagall and they all stared into the fireplace apprehensively. It was only seconds later that Dumbledore stepped through, holding up Snape. As they staggered into the room, Pomfrey followed, speeding around them and grabbing Snape's other arm. She led them to the ready bed and they lowered him gently. Hermione and McGonagall gasped loudly and Ron cursed under his breath.

Snape was only recognizable by the black robes he wore, and the black hair hanging over his face. The face itself was bloody and swollen, his eyes closed behind purple slits. A groan of pain escaped the bleeding lips as they straightened his limbs. Madame Pomfrey waved her wand and moved the privacy screen, shutting off their view. The teenagers and McGonagall exchanged looks of horror, as they sat back slowly into their seats. Behind the screen, Madame Pomfrey and Dumbledore seemed to work efficiently as a team, administering potions, murmuring healing spells, consulting each other when unsure of a next step.

The frenetic activity stopped and Pomfrey spoke, "We have done what we can for now, Albus. He's so broken … what in Merlin's name did they do to him?"

"Will he regain consciousness before morning?" they heard Dumbledore ask quietly.

"I don't believe so -" the quiet discussion continued.

"Harry?" Snape whispered weakly.

Pomfrey gasped, "It shouldn't be possible!"

Before anyone could process that, Harry sat bolt upright in his bed, eyes wide. For a moment he stared in confusion at those around his bed. Ron made a move to lay a hand on his arm, but in seconds, Harry was up. He ran to the screen, flinging it aside. He stood for a moment, breathing heavily, looking at the man on the bed in front of him.

"You're alive… you came back…" he murmured.

A pale hand reached out toward Harry. Moving forward, Harry clasped it, lacing the fingers together. No one could say anything as they watched the two of them. Harry moved closer to the bed, his eyes full of pain. The man on the bed was gasping in pain as the clenched hands squeezed on shattered bones, but he drew the boy closer. Harry was sinking downward, and Dumbledore waved a chair over just in time for Harry to sit instead of fall. With one hand in Snape's, Harry reached with his other to smooth back the hair from the bruised face. He breathed a sigh and laid his head over and on the wizard's chest. Snape's other hand crept up until it lay on top of Harry's head. No one could hear them as they spoke.

'_You could've told him - he would have rewarded you.'_

'_I want no reward from him.'_

'_Your pain is unbearable.'_

'_Yet I seem to be bearing it, Potter,'_ came the sarcastic reply.

'_I felt it when he started cursing you. How can you survive that?'_

'_If he had meant to kill me, he would have. He was attempting to extract information from one of his own. He trusts me and he doesn't want to lose an inner circle Death Eater. He pushed to the limit to make a point to me and the others that treachery won't be tolerated.'_

'_I didn't trust you before. I'm sorry.'_

'_Blind trust is never wise. I would say you were being cautious. That was wise.'_

'_What can I do to make this better? I feel like I should be able to do something to help you.'_

'_You are helping, Harry. You are here.'_

'_You didn't leave me alone when I needed you. I won't leave you either.'_

'_Thank you … can you sleep now?'_

'_Now that I know you're safe - yes. If they will let me stay here.'_

'_I do believe that they are all quite shocked into speechlessness at the moment. But I do not think Albus will let anyone separate us … he knows something … I'll get it out of the coot when this is past …'_

'_Coot? I'm going to tell him you said that.'_

'_Don't be juvenile. He's heard worse from me, I assure you.'_ Snape shifted slightly, moaning aloud at the effort_. 'I am tired.'_

'_Rest. Like I said, I'll be here.'_

The other people in the room had been watching, knowing something was being communicated between Harry and Snape, but not knowing what it was. The badly injured man seemed to relax, drifting into real sleep. The boy kept his head on the man's chest, one hand still gently intertwined with his. The other hand wound its fingers in the black hair of the teacher's head. Slowly, his breathing levelled out and grew restful, and they knew that Harry slept, too.

When Madame Pomfrey made as if to transfer him back to his own bed, Dumbledore stopped her. "They need to be together right now, Poppy. Leave them be."

With a reluctant nod, the mediwitch conjured a blanket. After laying it over Harry's shoulders, she waved the lights down low. The four observers sank into chairs, reluctant to leave their vigil.

When the dawn began to lighten the room, Harry stirred. Dumbledore stood and came up beside him. Madame Pomfrey awoke at his movement and joined him. She waved her wand over Snape.

"He has mended extraordinarily quickly. There is still a great deal of damage, but the critical injuries are almost gone." She looked at the Headmaster. "The potions alone could not have done this."

Dumbledore nodded. "More of the prophecy coming to bear, I think … just continue whatever ministrations are necessary, Poppy. You may find things proceed at an unusual pace. It shouldn't interfere with your work."

Pomfrey turned to gather more potions on the table. The others in the room began waking and stretching. Ron yawned loudly and getting a good look at Snape with Harry still huddled protectively over him, he shook his head. Then with a look of surprise, he walked to the bed.

"His face isn't swollen anymore. I didn't think potions could work that fast."

"They can't." Hermione said simply, as she walked over beside him. "The link they share must allow Harry to aid Professor Snape's healing." She looked over at Madame Pomfrey and Professor Dumbledore for confirmation of her theory. They gave her a smile and a nod.

Ron was looking at how Harry still had hold of Snape's hand. He tried to push down the irritation he felt that Harry would be getting so close to the Potions Master. No matter what Harry had told them, he couldn't believe that Snape was on the right side.

Harry lifted his head. Silently, he took in the form on the bed. The eyes were still bruised, but no longer swollen shut. Other bruises on the face were fading. Tentatively, Harry moved his hand. Snape's eyes opened and he turned his head to look at Harry. They just looked into each others eyes for a few minutes, before Harry finally nodded. He stood up, gently releasing the man's hand. Turning to his friends, he gave them a small smile.

"Thanks for being here. I appreciate it, even if some were not so happy to have an audience." He gave a satisfied smirk at Snape as he spoke. Snape merely rolled his eyes silently. Harry stretched then and looked at Dumbledore. "I hope you give him the explanations he wants from you. It's one thing to keep things from me. I don't like it, but I get that I'm just a kid. He needs the information to be able to function."

From the bed, Snape growled, "What I do not need is for you to defend me, Potter. He will tell me what he knows when he is ready." The obsidian eyes met the blue ones fiercely. "I believe he will be ready when all the Gryffindors leave the room."

Harry grinned then, knowing that the friendship between the men would survive whatever scorn he heard in Snape's voice. He turned to his friends. "I'm starved. Let's go eat. There's a Quidditch game I need to win this morning."

He walked out ahead of Ron and Hermione who wore identical surprised faces. Breakfast? Quidditch? They had assumed that Harry would be unable to leave the hospital wing, let alone go to breakfast and prepare to play Quidditch. They followed along behind him after letting their gazes linger on the Potions Master. He looked to be feeling surly and they were glad to be leaving his presence before he subjected everyone to his scorching tirade.

Dumbledore looked at the two women. "If you would give us some time alone, I must speak at length with Severus."

Pomfrey protested, "He has been severely injured and needs to be left to heal, Albus."

"If you will examine him, I believe that you will find his recovery is occurring rather more quickly than is usual."

With a huff of disbelief, Pomfrey waved her wand, performing a diagnostic spell. Her eyes widened and she rapidly spelled him again, and then again. Her eyes were still wide as she nodded finally. "You are right. The bones have mended already. The internal injuries he sustained are all but gone. The surface bruising is all that remains." She shook her head then. "But that's not possible. He should still be unconscious. The healing spells and potions require at least twenty-four hours to work properly. I have not even given him the next dosage yet!"

Dumbledore laid a calming hand on her shoulder. "Poppy, it is difficult to explain what is just now becoming evident to me. Be assured that that this is possible in this case. Give him the next dosing, if it helps you, but he most likely doesn't need it."

Pomfrey narrowed her eyes at the thought that her help wasn't needed. Pouring some potions together in a goblet, she held them out for Snape. With a steady hand he took it and downed the contents. They could all see that even the bruising was beginning to fade.

Pomfrey swept from the room and retreated to her office.

McGonagall looked at Dumbledore as if asking to be included. After Dumbledore gave her a small smile and a shake of his head, she nodded to them both and walked out of the hospital ward.

Snape sat up straighter in the bed, biting back a grimace caused by the discomfort he still felt in his bones and muscles. Raising dark eyes to the familiar blue ones, he growled,  
"It is past time for you to share what you know. I believe that last night earned me that right."

Dumbledore sat down in a vacated chair, looking at Snape for a long moment. Then, "There was another prophecy made about Harry. This one was made a very long time ago, by Cassandra Trelawney."

"Why have you not mentioned this before?"

"I have never been certain that it was a true prophecy. Sometimes they are not, you know. In any case, after Sybill made her prophecy, it was clear about who Harry was and what his destiny is. This prophecy was not ever clear until recent events began to fall into place with it."

Snape regarded Dumbledore silently. His voice was low when he asked, "What does this have to do with me? You said the other night that this was meant to work out. Explain, if you will."

Dumbledore leaned forward slightly, a gnarled hand stroking his beard thoughtfully. "The First Prophecy has more to do with another person who will assist Harry in fulfilling his own."

Believing that he really wanted to know the answer, Snape asked, "And this person is?"

"I believe it refers to you, Severus."


	22. Chapter 23

Chapter 23: End of the Year

Harry thought that he had never felt as alive as when he flew over the Quidditch pitch. The sun was warm and bright, and the Gryffindors were in top form. He had thoroughly enjoyed Draco's astonished face when he'd emerged from the team dressing room. He had obviously not expected Harry to show up. Rather than worry about how or why Draco felt that way, Harry elected to spend his energies on winning. The other questions could be answered later.

In spite of Harry's optimism, the Slytherins were able to pull out a last minute victory when Draco caught the snitch moments after a tie-breaking goal. Harry circled the pitch as all the other players on both teams landed. Up here, the breeze blew his hair, the broom felt warm and solid as it thrummed in his hands. The noise of the crowd was far below. Heaving a reluctant sigh, he began his descent. As much as he enjoyed the quiet solitude, he knew he would have to face his disappointed team mates sooner or later.

'_You played well. However, if you hoped to beat Slytherin, you should not have allowed your optimism make you cocky.'_

Harry almost fell off his broom. With a frown he answered, _'Have you been there the whole time? Maybe it was you who caused me to lose concentration enough to let them win.'_

'_That would not be playing fairly, now would it?'_

'_Since when do you care about fair?'_

There was no answer to that. After waiting a few moments, Harry reached out, _'How were you able to see the match?'_ He thought that might be a safe question.

'_Do you not suppose I can be wherever I wish and remain unobserved if I desire?'_

Harry thought about that. _'So where are you?'_

'_Walking back to the castle.'_

Harry flew a little higher and looked over the grounds leading from the pitch to the castle. A figure completely shrouded in black stood to the side of the crowd strolling back.

'_All dressed in black? That's original. No one would ever think it might be you.'_

'_This connection does not give you leave to insult me or be impertinent, Potter.'_ Harry could almost see Snape's outraged face. He sure sounded like he was getting over his injuries. In fact, he sounded like the Snape from a few months ago. He supposed Madame Pomfrey must have some really strong potions that she kept on hand for times like this. He guessed she had never used them on him when he had been hurt because he was a student. The stronger stuff must only be safe for adults.

Harry was about to apologize, when he suddenly asked himself, "Why should I? He was in my mind uninvited. Maybe he did cause me to lose focus." Through the link he returned scathingly, _'Maybe you won't hear things you don't like if you don't sneak up on me like that.'_

On the ground he could see the solitary figure turn and stride towards the castle. There was no response. Harry watched until he entered the castle then he headed towards the ground.

His own dark mood went unnoticed when he entered the sombre dressing room. Looking at the downcast team, he said, "I'm sorry I missed it. I didn't even see the snitch before Draco had gotten it."

Alicia came over and patted him on the back. "Of course we would've liked to win, Harry, but we know you did your best. It was a good game over all."

Harry smiled at her and then went to shower. He stayed under the water a long time. He was tired. It had been a long time since he woke up this morning holding Snape's hand. As the water ran over his head, he thought about that. He remembered the phantom pain of the Dark Mark when Snape was called by Voldemort. He remembered Snape telling him to occlude. He remembered studying with Ron and Hermione. Then he remembered his scar blazing as if a hot poker was boring into his forehead. Frowning, Harry concentrated to remember what happened next. He tried to occlude didn't he? Memories of Dumbledore surfaced; he was trying to calm Harry. It worked for a bit and then …

Harry slid bonelessly down the wall of the enclosure, the water continuing to run over him. Closing his eyes, he remembered the images that had been burned there. As if he were looking out of Voldemort's eyes, he was looking into Snape's. His scar had blazed as Voldemort viciously used Legilimency on Snape, trying to get past his Occlumency. Snape had false thoughts in place for Voldemort to see, but the Dark Lord was angry. Harry could feel the anger washing through him, the need to unleash his frustration on the man for withholding information. Voldemort was not certain if Snape had what he wanted, but he intended to make sure that he used every possible means to get it if it was there.

He ordered his other closest Death Eaters to bind Snape. Then he was beaten, bones broken, skin flayed open, brutally hexed and cursed by the ones who stood at Voldemort's side. Snape lay on a cold stone floor, biting back any groans of pain. Not once did he give them any indication that he knew what they were talking about.

Lucius Malfoy's face swam in front of him "My Lord, he has been with Muggles and their mud-spawn. He has most likely betrayed -"

Lucius was flung backwards with a small flick of Voldemort's wrist.

Harry heard Voldemort's voice come out of his mouth, "Your petty jealousy is irritating. How would you know where Severus' loyalty lies when I alone can read his every thought." Looking back at Snape, he intoned darkly, "Though he tries to hide his thoughts, I see that he has become fascinated by the Muggles you speak of. Fascination is not a crime to me. But not to speak to me of this, to attempt to hide it, that calls for punishment. I will not allow anyone in my Inner Circle to be suspect. For that, and as an example to the others -"

The Cruciatus curse from Voldemort's own wand whipped out then and struck Snape. Before Snape lost consciousness, Voldemort bent down close. "You live because I wish it. Do not give me cause to wish otherwise, my friend."

Harry watched through the snake eyes as other Death Eaters dragged an unconscious Snape to the fireplace, threw Floo powder in and then shoved him in.

Harry sat still, glad that wizard showers didn't run out of hot water. He was cold, but not with outward discomfort. The cold he felt was as if Voldemort was still there, chilling his insides. The image of Snape being tortured and cursed was not one he could push aside. He had only been aware of the pain as Snape felt it last night. To go back and relive it from Voldemort's point of view was nauseating. He swallowed hard against the stomach contents threatening to come up his throat.

He was almost ready to try and stand when he heard a voice outside the enclosure, "Potter? What are you doing in there?" Harry grimaced at the sound of Draco's voice.

"What are you doing in here, Malfoy? This is the Gryffindor team room."

"I was waiting for you. When you never came out, I came in to see if you were drowning your sorrow in the shower. I see that you are."

"Just get out. Why were you waiting anyway? Wanting to rub it in about me not seeing the snitch?"

"No. Actually, I wanted to talk to you."

"I don't even imagine that we have anything to talk about." Harry sighed. He turned off the water and grabbed his towel. Drying himself rapidly, he _Accio'ed_ his clothes and put them on while still inside the enclosure. He heard Draco chuckle.

"I wouldn't have thought you to be so modest, Potter." Harry stepped out to see Draco sitting on the bench, his head back against the wall.

Sitting down, he towelled his hair some more before shaking his head. "So, talk. And you should probably hurry. Slytherin probably has some wild celebrating going on in the dungeons."

Draco sat silently and Harry put on his shoes and socks as he waited. Finally, Draco spoke quietly. "I haven't seen Severus today, and none of the professors will give me an answer about where he is." He looked at Harry in question.

Harry raised his eyebrows at that. "Why would you think that I know anything?"

Draco shrugged, trying to make it casual. "He doesn't talk to me anymore. I thought that he might have been talking to you." The grey eyes looked at Harry steadily. "He was with you lot at the play."

Harry looked steadily back. "I thought you knew he was just keeping an eye on me when we went to the play. He doesn't talk to me if he doesn't have to."

Draco sighed in annoyance. "I guess he has to turn up sometime. I just thought he would've come to the match between us."

"He must've had reasons not to." Harry didn't know why he was trying to make excuses. He didn't understand what this was about. It bothered him somehow that Draco used Snape's first name. Now why would that be? He didn't want to say the wrong thing. Did Draco know what happened last night? Did he hear from his father about how Snape was nearly killed and now he wanted to check to see if he was still alive? Was he asking for himself, or for Lucius?

Harry closed his eyes and reached out with the link. _'Are you there?'_

It was silent for several long moments before he heard Snape answer sharply, _'Am I to be available whenever you wish, but not the other way around?'_

'_Sorry for earlier. You bit my head off and I snapped. I had just lost the match, you know.'_

More silence. Then, _'I should not have reacted to your comment about my attire. My injuries are leaving me short-tempered.'_

Harry bit back another sarcastic comment about when was Snape ever not short-tempered. Before they could get into that discussion further, he said, _'Draco is here with me. He hasn't seen you today and he says he's worried.'_

'_Where are you?'_

'_I was still in the shower in the team changing room.'_

'_So you are alone with him?'_

'_Yeah. Is that bad?'_

No answer. Then after a long silence_, 'Does he know you are speaking to me?'_

'_No. He thinks I am just being quiet.'_

'_Come back to the Great Hall and I will be there. Let me know at once if anyone else joins you before you get here.'_

'_Anyone, or anyone Slytherin?'_

'_Anyone who is not above your sense of suspicion.'_

Harry breathed a big sigh and sat forward. Looking at Draco again he said, "I'm beat. Let's go back. If Snape's not around, we'll ask Dumbledore. He'll probably tell me something."

"Yeah, seeing as how you're his Golden Boy Who Gets Whatever He Wants," Draco said sarcastically.

Harry stopped in his walk toward the door and stared at Draco, his head tilted to the side slightly. "Is that what you really think, or just what your dad had been force-feeding you? Because I don't get that you could really think that. Every year since I started here, Voldemort has been after me. People think I'm some kind of – of hero in the making, and I'm just a kid. I just want to be a kid for a change. It would be nice if I could have one week where nothing out of the ordinary happened to me, if nobody noticed anything I did or didn't do." He put on a falsetto voice and rolled his eyes. "Did Harry eat his vegetables today? He didn't? Oh no, Voldemort must have cursed his dinner plate!"

Draco smirked at Harry, shaking his head. "You say the strangest things, Potter. I _don't_ get what everyone says about you being so special. In fact, I hate you for it," he said simply.

Harry narrowed his eyes and continued walking. Once they were outside, he put his right hand into his robes so he could feel his wand. Draco glanced at this and commented, "It's not me you have to be wary of, Potter."

"Yeah? Then who?"

Draco shrugged but kept silent. They reached the castle and went inside. Harry paused as if in indecision and then suggested, "Let's look in the Hall first since we're here. Then we can try the other likely places before we ask Dumbledore."

They stepped into the Great Hall. A few students were in evidence, waiting for the dinner hour. At first, Harry thought that Snape was not there, but then he moved out of the shadows behind the head table. Draco saw him and strode forward. Harry walked more slowly, looking closely at the man. He could see faint bruising around the eyes and nose, but only because he knew what to look for. He thought there was a more stoic expression on his face, as if he were very tired, maybe in pain, and hiding it. Harry resisted the urge to ask how he was feeling, knowing it wouldn't be appreciated.

Draco looked back at Harry and in his usual snide manner, he said, "If you don't mind, Potter, I need to speak with my head of house alone."

Harry looked at Draco coolly. "Of course." He moved to leave and then turned back again, "By the way, Malfoy," he waited until Draco looked at him, "good game. Congratulations." With that he turned on his heal and strode out of the room.

Harry walked slowly up to Gryffindor Tower. All the events of the last twenty-four hours were really catching up with him now. Valuable study time had been lost last night. He knew that Hermione would be trying to get them back on track tonight and tomorrow. Idly, he wondered what it might be like to be able to study for exams without stopping for life and death dealings.

The common room was quiet when he walked in. Hermione and Ron were sitting on the sofa, leaning together. They looked up at Harry and smiled. Harry sat down in an armchair, hesitating. "If you want to be alone, I'll go up to the dorm -"

Hermione interrupted him, "No, Harry. We're just relaxing before dinner." She looked at Ron with something like adoration on her face. Glancing back at Harry, she added, "Sometimes, being with those you care about is more important than studying, or worrying, or - anything."

Harry grinned at Ron. "What did you do you do with Hermione, you fiend? This has to be a pod person; our Hermione would never say something might be more important than studying."

Ron had been grinning back but the smile faltered. "What's a pod person?"

Harry and Hermione laughed. Hermione hugged Ron, "Muggle movie term. Aliens invade earth and replace real people with look-alikes that come from giant pods"

Ron shook his head. "One of these days, I'd really like to see one of those movie things."

"You will. Harry and I will take you to one next time we're all together at my house. Later this summer."

Harry hated the hopeful feeling that gave him. When they had talked about their summer plans, they had never said anything about including Harry for any of them. Asking just seemed so needy. Hermione reached over and took Harry's hand, squeezing. "Mum and Dad want to have you back sometime over the holidays. When we get back from our trip and Professor Dumbledore says it's alright, I'll have Dad drive around and pick you up."

Harry nodded, feeling brighter. At least he had something to look forward to. He knew Dumbledore would insist that most of the summer be spent at the Dursleys. Now he had something to think about while he endured that necessity.

Snape glared down at Draco, waiting for him to speak. Draco looked up at him, his expression unreadable.

"Father sent me a message this morning. He said that you would not be here for the rest of the term. He said you were indisposed." He looked at Snape worriedly. "Why did he say that when you are still here?"

Snape regarded Draco silently. Then he curled his upper lip as he spoke, "Your father is ever the optimist. He expected that he could replace me in the Dark Lords favour. Obviously, he wrote his missive too soon. I am here and I am not indisposed, as you can see."

Draco looked down at his shoes. Finally, he abandoned the pretence at indifference and looked at Snape imploringly. "You're my godfather, Severus. You used to talk to me all the time. You never even seem to see me anymore, unless it's to tell me off for bothering a Gryffindor." He held his hands out, palms up, in a way that asked for help understanding. Where did he stand in Snape's eyes?

Snape's eyes softened a bit. He had known this boy for his entire life. He had known his father since his own school years. They had joined the Dark Lord's circle together. While Snape had joined for the illusion of camaraderie and friendship, Lucius had joined for the promised power. The darkness appealed to Snape because he felt that he was not a good person. Merlin knew that his own father had beat that idea into him often enough. If he could not be a good wizard, he would be an excellent dark wizard. Side by side with Lucius he had performed deeds of evil until he was sickened by it. He grew to detest being in the presence of the other Death Eaters. Going to Dumbledore, he had confessed his very poor choices and begged for help. Dumbledore had seen the potential in him as a double agent, and together they had made elaborate plans designed to fool everyone. The deception was easy to pull off. His dark personality endeared him to no one. Voldemort used his potion brewing talents to his advantage. Snape played the role well. When Lucius' son was born, he asked his best friend Severus to stand as godfather. Holding the tiny infant, Snape had promised himself that he would do whatever he could to see that the boy did not follow in his father's footsteps.

Now, with Draco standing before him, he remembered that promise. Heaving a weary sigh, he laid a hand on the boy's shoulder. "I have been somewhat preoccupied lately. If you have felt slighted, it was because there were other concerns that required my attention."

"Potter," Draco sighed. "I know." He looked at Snape. "I hate how he gets everyone's attention all the time."

"He doesn't enjoy it you know." Snape raised an eyebrow and shook his head.

"I know. He told me that." With an annoyed huff, he added, "And Harry Potter never lies."

Snape commiserated, "I'm sure he has stretched the truth a time or two."

Feeling like a small child, hating himself for asking, but unable to stop himself, Draco asked softly, "Do you like him more than me?"

Snape knew that he must answer in the negative for Draco's sake. "No. I do not like him more than you."

Draco relaxed and gave him a small smile.

More students began to enter the Great Hall for dinner. Snape took his seat at the head table without another word. Draco walked to the Slytherin table, meeting the still celebratory Slytherins that were coming in.

Snape waited tiredly for Dumbledore to come in. When he did, he spoke quietly, "If you could have Poppy bring in another round of healing potions - I do believe I may have overdone it."

Dumbledore took in the exhausted Potions Master and snapped his fingers. A house elf appeared beside him. It vanished after Dumbledore whispered a few words. When Madame Pomfrey bustled in minutes later, she set a smoking goblet in front of Snape. He could hear her muttering about patients who never stayed in bed long enough deserving what they get. He downed the contents of the goblet, feeling the potion working to re-repair the fragile repairs from the night before. Looking out over the gathering student body, he found Draco looking up at him, frowning at the empty goblet. Letting his eyes roam further, he saw Harry staring at him. His face was full of worry.

Snape scowled at him. _'Save your concern, Potter. Madame Pomfrey's potions are from my own laboratory. I will live yet another night.'_

'_You're pretty tough to kill. Almost as tough as me,'_ Harry quipped.

Snape gave him a dark smile at that. Harry turned to his plate and his friends.

The week of final exams was tedious. It was always hard for most students to focus on them when freedom and sunshine lay just around the corner. For Harry, the inability to focus wasn't because of the anticipation of summer, but the dread of it. He managed to get through the exams feeling like he had given it his best. He was sure he had done well enough to pass, even with all the interruptions he had recently had.

The closer the last day came the more depressed he felt. He wished he could speed past the beginnings of break until it was time to visit the Grangers. Hermione and Ron spent most of their time 'saying goodbye'. Harry didn't quite envy their snogging sessions, but it was awkward. He tried to act unfazed whenever they kissed in front of him, knowing he had to get used to it if this is how their relationship was going to be. The lack of a girlfriend didn't trouble him much. He really didn't want to go around snogging anyone. No one had caught his interest, and it didn't appear as if anyone else was interested in him in that regard. He supposed that he wasn't as attractive as your average guy. He wasn't tall and muscled, but rather smaller boned and short. It was good if you were a Quidditch Seeker; not so good if you were looking for a girlfriend. Harry shrugged himself out of his daydreaming to put more books into his trunk. He wanted to finish packing so he could spend time flying before it was time to leave.

The Leaving Feast was a boisterous affair. The Slytherins anticipated their House Cup win with many cat calls to the other tables. Paper airplane messages were zooming all over, with last minute requests for summer correspondences and plans to meet during travels among the messages they contained. Harry sat amidst the sea of laughter, poking at his food absently. He glanced at the head table. Snape was staring out over the students, a look of displeasure on his face. He saw Harry's glance, but didn't allow his eyes to stop their sweep over the hall. Inside, he felt a jolt at the forlorn expression on the boy's face. They had not spoken since before the finals. Tentatively, Harry reached out.

'_Professor? Can we talk?'_

'_Surely you would prefer to talk to your house mates. You will be leaving in the morning, after all.'_ The tone was rather short.

'_Yeah, well … they all talk about the fun stuff they'll be doing, and I -'_ Harry broke off, suddenly unwilling to reveal how much he dreaded his summer; how much he hated leaving what he considered his true home.

Snape noticed the closeness of Ron and Hermione as they sat beside Harry. _'Are you perhaps feeling left out of the Trio?'_

_No. I'm happy for them. They don't make me feel like a third wheel.'_

'_A what?'_

Harry grinned into his napkin at the quizzical expression on Snape's face when he chanced a look in that direction_. 'It's another Muggle expression. It's a way of saying you're in the way of two people wanting to be together if you're the third wheel.'_

After a pause, _'Are you getting ready for your Summer School job?'_

'_I leave on the train tomorrow when you do. Although why I cannot just Apparate and be done with it - '_ Now he was the one breaking off his thoughts. Then continuing, _'I suppose that I am as ready as one can be in this situation. I feel well-prepared by our detention sessions and my personal studies.'_

'_Good luck, sir.'_ Harry had a wistful tone now, which Snape wondered at.

For a moment, he eyed Harry closely. Harry was sitting with his head leaned into the palm of one hand as he picked at the food on his plate. It was a stark contrast to the animated activity around him. _'What of your summer plans, Potter?'_

Harry thought of sending the same response he was often tempted to give to others when asked this, but he didn't want Snape to feel sorry for him, any more than he wanted sympathy from his friends. So he said simply, _'Nothing special, sir. Just more of the same. The Dursley's don't take me on their vacations anymore.'_

Snape narrowed his eyes at that_. 'They leave you alone?'_ The house was the protection Dumbledore insisted Harry return to each summer, but how effective could it be if the family wasn't there? _'Why would they leave you alone?'_

'_I'm old enough to be left behind.'_ Harry didn't feel like explaining how he was locked into his room with a small supply of food and water and a bucket for a toilet. It would probably sound unbelievable that the Boy Who Lived would have such a miserable summer.

Snape felt more negative emotion than Harry put into his words, but it was quickly hidden. He made himself a mental note to ask Albus about Harry's current home situation. While he knew it wasn't ideal, he was beginning to think there might be more to it than Potter had ever let on. The silence between them drew out and Snape finally asked, _'You said you wanted to talk. Is there anything else you wish to discuss?'_

Harry thought about that. He was feeling lonely already. He was about to be without his best friends. He was about to be back with the Dursleys. He wouldn't have contact with anyone he cared about. _'Do you think this connection will work outside of school?'_

'_It has worked over long distances just recently, if you recall.'_

'_That was because Voldemort was in the middle of it.'_ Harry said shortly. _'I mean, do you think we could talk like this over the summer? I could help you if you had any Muggle questions or something …'_

There was that longing tone again. Snape wondered at the boy offering to help him instead of enjoying his freedom from him for the summer. Before he could say anything else, Ron and Hermione had pulled Harry to his feet and were dragging him out of the hall. Harry had a real smile on his face, now.

'_Sorry, sir. I'm going flying one more time with Ron. Can I call you later?'_

'_I told you a long time ago, you may call me any time.'_

'_You did?'_ Harry sounded surprised.

Snape felt chagrined. Had he actually told Harry that at one point, or had he meant to? Maybe it had been in the first dream and Harry didn't recall it. _'You may seek the connection any time, Harry. If I can, I will answer.'_

Harry felt a surge of warmth. What was that? Oh yeah, Snape had called him Harry. _'Thank you, sir.'_

'_You're welcome.'_


	23. Chapter 24

Chapter 24: Transitions

Snape boarded the Hogwarts Express ahead of the tide of students. Securing his own compartment, he locked it, and then darkened the windows. It was bad enough that Albus had insisted that he journey to London this way. He most assuredly was not about to share quarters with students to do it. Nor did he relish the thought of them peering in at him during the journey. Settling his belongings, he took out one of the Chemistry textbooks that Martin Granger had sent him. As he opened it to his marked place, he thought of the man who had sent it. The dentist had fast become a valuable resource, as well as a friend. The thought of having someone from outside the wizarding world as a friend was quite bewildering. In a lot of ways it was very satisfying. Martin accepted him as he saw him, a teacher, an academic, a man serious about whatever was before him at the moment. He asked no questions about Snape's past. The fact that he was a wizard was unimportant. The fact that it turned out they had many interests in common was. Snape found himself recalling some of the events of his 'field trips' with the Trio: playing chess with Martin, watching Muggle sports on a television, grilling those wonderful steaks in the backyard, enjoying a Muggle beer…being with them at the play … some of the first real friendship memories he now had, aside from those with Albus. He gave a satisfied chuckle at remembering how much he looked forward to telephoning Martin from the tiny Muggle village he Apparated to every other night.

Then Snape began to think about how Lucius had looked at the Grangers. The predatory gleam in his eyes was familiar; it was the one Snape had seen countless times through his years in the service of the Dark Lord. While Snape now concealed his repugnance at the revels, Lucius was always at the front when it came to torture and killing of Muggles and Muggle-borns.

Snape flexed his hands, still feeling in them remnants of soreness from the punishment received by the Dark Lord. He had successfully turned his thoughts of acceptance of the Grangers into what Voldemort saw as a fascination for lesser beings. He had managed to project a feeling of mockery and distaste at what he told the Dark Lord was Dumbledore's latest assignment. By allowing half-truths to show through, it was easier to mask the actual truth of his feelings. It was a skill he had honed well over the last few years as his realization of the evilness of Voldemort's vision grew.

However well he felt he had eluded Voldemort's suspicions, he knew that Lucius was still like a blood hound on the trail of a wounded animal. Lucius was a threat to him, to Harry. Draco had confided many snippets of conversations with his father. While he believed that Snape and his father were of like mind, he felt free to discuss whatever his father had shared with him. But Snape could see uncertainty in the boy. Draco was not at all sure that all his father's assertions were right. He wanted to believe what he was told about being superior to those who were not pure-blood. He wanted to be superior. But he was smart enough not to ignore facts thrown in his face. There were in fact, Muggle-born witches and wizards who had vast intellect, Hermione Granger being the best example. Snape planted whatever other doubts he could in Draco, being careful not to give enough away that Draco would have too much against him, should he ever sway back towards his family's beliefs. He avoided ever saying aloud what a grovelling fool Lucius was, whenever they were in the Dark Lord's presence. Lucius longed to be the Dark Lord's most trusted servant, the prince to the king. His growing suspicions of Snape fuelled his lust for this power. Fortunately for Snape, the Dark Lord saw this as simple petty jealousy, as he had said at that last painful meeting. The Dark Lord had need of the Potions Master's skill, and he was not willing to give that up to appease the blond wizard.

Snape knew that it had been very close that Voldemort had not seen his connection with Harry. He himself had not realized how much the link travelled in both directions until the Dark Lord had summoned him. When the Dark Mark had burned on his arm, he had prepared to go, and then he felt Harry's own pain and surprise. With surprise of his own, he knew he could not appear in front of Voldemort while the link was so strong. Voldemort had a link with Harry through the scar. If he discovered another way to get to Harry through the Dark Mark, he would also know of the connection that Snape had. He had linked with Harry to make him occlude as hard as he was able before he dared to go before Voldemort. He had hoped that Harry would be able to hold his barriers up until Snape was no longer before him. Harry had expended a tremendous effort, but the price was in his experiencing the punishment Snape had received. Snape had tried to bury all thoughts of Harry as he lay before the Death Eaters. He had not been at all certain that he would get out of the meeting alive. If Lucius had managed to sway Voldemort's belief in Snape's loyalty, he would have been dead.

When he'd found himself back at Hogwarts, his first thought had been for Harry, needing to assure himself of his safety. Harry's hand in his had been agony on the broken bones, but immediately healing as well. When Harry touched him, he had felt the energy surge between them, knitting bones and tissues faster than any potion. He had not realized what it was until afterwards, when Dumbledore had told him about the prophecy. He felt again the anger towards the headmaster that he had never told Snape about the prophecy before. The anger now was not that he had not been told, but that now there was another twist in the roles he had been fated to play. The boy he had only just begun to tolerate was now to be under his guardianship, according to the blasted prophecy. Snape snarled aloud. He had thought about little else since Dumbledore had confided the entire contents of the prophecy. How, for Merlin's sake was he supposed to fulfil this latest prediction? As he had pondered it, he vacillated back and forth between believing it, and asking himself who in their right mind would ever believe it.

Snape thought about the words of the prophecy. Dumbledore called it the First Prophecy, because he realized that its fulfilment would have to come before the newer prophecy made by Sybil Trelawney could come to pass.

_The one in darkness will turn to shrouded light._

_He will be sentinel of the mind of the light and find true release for darkness past._

_Forging of the bond will create a united remedial power of radiance so that what may be lost will be saved._

_Other worlds will be preserved through the amity of the two, then hostility will split them before the ending brings peace._

It had seemed obvious to Snape that the first part of the prophecy referred to him. He was one who had joined the Circle of Darkness when he took the Dark Mark. He had turned back when he confessed his wrong to Dumbledore. But he was not wholly in the light, still seeming to serve the Dark Lord, acting as a spy. It had taken him days before he was ready to admit that Dumbledore was right to keep the prophecy to himself until it had become inescapable that it referred to Snape. It might have been someone else, someone who was closer to Harry. Telling Snape about it prematurely might have altered how he began to interact with Harry. As much as he had hated James Potter, he had been determined to dislike his son. He had spent the last five years trying to punish the son for the sins of the father. By letting events unfold on their own, Dumbledore allowed Snape to see that they were meant to be as they were. Once the link between Harry and himself began to manifest itself, it only remained to see that the prophecy was the reason.

With so much on his mind, the train trip passed rapidly. Snape ignored the many surprised faces when he emerged from his compartment, where he had remained hidden for the entire trip. On Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, he nodded to the Weasleys as they collected Ron and Ginny. The Malfoys stood away from everyone else as they waited for Draco, their faces haughty and disdainful of most of the other, less wealthy appearing parents. Draco emerged and joined them, turning an identical nose into the air as they passed the Weasley family. Snape had shrunken his baggage and now carried only one carpet bag. He exited the barrier and was on the Muggle side of the station. Hermione was already with her parents, and the Grangers gave Snape a smile in greeting. He returned it coolly. He knew they would not take it as a snub, after all the phone calls that had passed between them. He had found it to be as fast as or faster than using Hermione to relay questions and answers.

He was about to make his way to the taxi queue when he spotted Harry standing next to a large, beefy looking man. Harry was leaning away as the man had his face close and was shaking a finger at him. Curious, Snape moved closer to hear what Harry had already done to earn this attitude. The man snarled, "I'll not spend my time waiting for you, boy! I spent good petrol money driving here to pick you up and you'll come along quickly or not at all!"

He was angry because Harry kept him waiting? How much faster could Harry have gotten through? Passengers were only now meeting their parents. He listened again.

"You'll not put us out this summer, either, boy. You're past old enough to earn your keep and I intend that you'll earn it well."

"Yes, Uncle Vernon." Harry kept his eyes on his feet, and Snape felt surprised at the way he was almost cowering before the man. He had never seen Harry Potter cowed before anyone, including him. How was this Muggle affecting such a response? Uncle Vernon stepped aside and motioned Harry to precede him. When Harry passed him, he gave him a hard jab in the back with his pointing finger, causing Harry to almost stumble. Snape gritted his teeth. Now why did that make him feel angry with the Muggle? Clearly, Harry was used to having too much leniency at home and his uncle was simply heading off any problems ahead of time. Harry's uncle obviously knew how best to handle him after all these years. Snape started to turn away, and an uneasy feeling nagged at the back of his mind. Narrowing his eyes, he tried the link. There was nothing to indicate Harry heard him. In fact, his mind felt as though Harry had never been in it. There was no door to even try and open.

Harry had not seen Snape watching, but Hermione had. She walked over to Snape and said quietly, "You see how he's treated, Professor? That's not the worst of it. I don't believe Harry has ever told us how bad it gets."

Snape was about to respond to her when he saw the Malfoys emerge and start toward him. He gave Hermione a cold glance and turned his back on her, heading towards the street. He didn't see her hurt expression, but he heard Draco sneer at her, "Expecting things to be different in front of your parents, Granger? Nothing's different. You're still a Mudblood, here as well as at Hogwarts."

Hermione moved towards him before her father laid a hand on her arm. Seeing the shake of his head, she allowed herself to be drawn away by her family.

Snape hailed his taxi and disappeared into the teaming traffic of London. Settling back into the Muggle car, he thought about what he had just learned. Harry seemed almost afraid of his uncle. His uncle obviously had no affection for Harry. Hermione said that it was worse than it appeared. Harry had divulged little about how he felt about his guardians. During the detentions, discussions about school had shown that the cousin Dudley was a bully that made school life difficult. But Harry hadn't said anything about the aunt and uncle. Wait. He had mentioned that one time that he wasn't allowed to drink that carbonated beverage as it was too expensive. Not a big loss there. It was devoid of any value other than quenching thirst. Water was better. Snape allowed himself to ponder these thoughts for only as long as it took to reach the flat that he had rented. Shaking off any further concerns, he set about organizing his new living arrangements. Summer School started in two days.

On Monday morning, Snape walked the short distance between his flat and the school, The Emma Rhys Watson Academy. He had spent the rest of the weekend reviewing his books, clothing choices and mental notes on how to behave like a Muggle teacher. He was meeting the Headmaster of the school first thing, a Mr. Wimberly.

The man was short and balding with a small bristling moustache. The three piece suit and stiff starched shirt indicated a man who put much stock in appearances. Snape knew his own black pin stripe suit was conservative enough when the man gave him a silent appraisal and a nod, but he gave Snape's hair a small frown. Snape was determined that he would not change it. He had drawn it back and tied it at the nape. The man would simply have to allow it. Dumbledore had said that he might be asked to cut his hair if the Muggles felt it was too long for a teacher. Snape followed the man to his classroom. It was large and much brighter than the dungeons at Hogwarts. Not many shadows to lurk in here. He thought that he might have to do something about that.

"Here we are, Mr. Snape. This is where you will be conducting your class. I assume you are familiar with our laboratory safety policies?"

"I have reviewed them and found them adequate for the moment," Snape intoned, standing straight with his hands clasped behind his back.

Mr. Wimberly frowned at him. "No, I meant are you ready to enforce them, not change them. Certainly they are adequate. I wrote them myself. The policies have been in place for two years." He shook his head, as if irritated at the thought that Snape had hinted that the policies might not be stringent enough.

Snape scowled to himself. He folded his arms across his chest. The policies were cursory at best, and it remained to be seen if they were clear enough. He would reserve that judgment until he saw the calibre of student he was to be given. On that note, he asked, "The brochure mentioned that both remedial and advanced classes were to be given during the summer. Might I ask which you are assigning to me?" He still hoped that Dumbledore had been wrong when he said the classes would consist of both.

Hope was dashed when Mr. Wimberly chuckled lightly. "I _know_ that I mentioned to your Headmaster that summer school had a mixture of both types of students." He actually shook a finger at Snape, making Snape wish to bite it off. "Now, we had only a few students who wanted to move ahead and take the course now instead of waiting until next year. They hope to graduate early and start university before their classmates. You will find that they are very motivated and they will most likely keep you on your toes. Highly intelligent, they are." He looked at Snape expectantly, as if waiting for a comment about the brilliant students. He would wait for a long time if that's what he wanted. Snape was not one to indulge in idle commentary and the sooner the man realized that, the better they would get along. When he merely looked at the man, Mr. Wimberly blushed and continued; "Now the others are another matter entirely. If they do not manage to pass the course this summer, they will not graduate. For the most part they are slackers. I do not expect that you will have much success with them, as I have not been able to impress upon them the value of hard work."

Snape took in a slow deep breath, expanding his chest as he stood there. A good head taller than the Headmaster, he was pleased to see the man step back from him as he glared. He had been almost afraid that his ability to intimidate would be ineffective with Muggles. Mr. Wimberly seemed a bit flustered that Snape seemed so daunting. To cover it he spoke gruffly, "I'll introduce you to the other summer staff, then. Most of them are like you, exchange teachers looking to broaden their experience and make a little extra money." He smiled knowingly at Snape and then said as if in confidence, "Of course, you're not exactly the young up and coming teacher we usually get. I suspect you just want to see what teaching at a reputable school is like, or perhaps you have fallen on hard times and need the extra income?"

Snape allowed a scowl to cross his face. The man was insufferable. "My school _is_ reputable, as you put it. I am here to assess your curriculum as it compares to ours." He stared down his nose at the man. "I'll let you know if you are lacking." He whipped around to face away from the Headmaster and look out the window. His voice was hard. "Any other reason I might have for choosing to teach here is my own business."

Mr. Wimberly reddened at Snape's last comment. Snape hoped that the man would take the big hint and refrain from further personal inquiries. Looking like he would like to say something else, but didn't quite dare, he nodded and then led the way out. Further down the hallway, he opened another door. A teacher's lounge was occupied by a couple of others, drinking coffee and discussing lesson plans. They looked up at their entrance.

"This is our new summer Chemistry teacher, Severus Snape," Wimberly motioned in introduction. "Mr. Snape, This is George Barstow, the History teacher, and Sarah Smithe, Literature." He stood back, rocking a bit on his toes, surveying them all. After the silence drew out, he cleared his throat self consciously. "Well, I leave you all to get acquainted and get your classrooms in order." Another half smile and he was gone.

Snape nodded a greeting, standing rigidly. Barstow stepped forward and held out a hand. Snape shook it, feeling curiously awkward, standing here among colleagues that were Muggles. He could not help but compare them to Martin and Ellen. Keeping his face neutral, he noted all the little things about how they moved, how they spoke, what they were wearing. The spy in him searched for any indication of hidden agenda. The man did not appear to be put off by Snape's aloofness. The woman busied herself with some stacks of papers on a table. After a few moments, she handed a sheaf to Snape.

"Mr. Wimberly told us to fill these out. I suppose you should also." Her hazel eyes met Snape's briefly, too briefly to get a good peak into her thoughts.

Snape determined that he would take the liberty of using Legilimency on all his Muggle colleagues. It was the safest thing to do. He needed to be sure that they were what they seemed to be. What kind of a spy would he be if he assumed they were harmless and they turned out to be the opposite? They would not realize that it had been done, and Snape would feel more secure in these unfamiliar surroundings.

Snape sat down at a nearby table and spread the sheets of paper before him. The thinness and the smell of them made him sneer. Already he missed the feel of parchment; it was substantial to the fingers, the scent rich. Glancing over these sheets, he sneered again. It seemed that the Headmaster wished to have a detailed description of each teacher's classroom style, vision statement, and plan of discipline. Beneath the request for discipline plan, there was a reminder in parenthesis that this school did not tolerate corporal punishment, nor did they ever involve the authorities in any difficulties, as that would likely result in negative publicity. Frowning, he looked up at the other two teachers.

"What difficulties could arise that would make one wish to involve outside authorities?" he asked coolly.

Barstow shrugged. "I suppose all schools have their trouble makers. This must be Wimberly's way of telling us to keep it to ourselves and handle it internally."

Smithe sat down and sipped her coffee. Tapping her own papers with a pen, she said, "I've heard rumours that the summer students here are often a rowdy bunch. An area gang always has at least one boy trying to make up his failures."

"Gang?" Snape asked levelly. "What is a gang?" He wished he had not asked when they both looked at him in surprise.

"Good grief, man, where do you teach that you never heard of gangs?" Barstow asked incredulously.

Snape kept his face impassive. "Your own definition of it would give me a broader view than I may have had in my own experience." Inside, he felt a deep aggravation. Not even one day, and already here was a Muggle term he had not heard of. All the misgivings he had first felt came rushing back. This was asinine. He would be spending all his time trying to figure out what the Muggles were talking about. He would be learning nothing of any use.

The two Muggle teachers were staring at him. Snape took the opportunity to practice a little Legilimency. Barstow was still in disbelief that Snape had never heard of gangs. He was thinking that Snape was either incredibly stupid, sheltered, or lucky. Smithe was thinking that while he was a reasonably attractive man, he was most likely not her type if he was so uninformed.

Barstow finally answered, "You're kidding, right? There's no way you've never had a difficult student. Surely you've had students who tended to run around together and cause trouble for others outside their crowd. There's always some who consider themselves above the rules everyone else is expected to follow." He was frowning at the thought that Snape may have avoided this type of student successfully.

Snape lifted his chin. "Ah." He nodded. "Of course. At my school, the students are divided into houses that compliment their abilities. Rivalry is expected between the four houses, but troublemaking and rule breaking is not tolerated. Appropriate punishment is swift." Inwardly he thought of the constant enmity between Slytherin and Gryffindor. Were Houses the same as gangs?

They looked at Snape with new interest. Smithe asked, "What sort of punishment actually works to stop their trouble making, though? And where is this school of yours?"

Snape regarded her coolly. "Students are punished with detentions and work that they find abhorrent. Disregard for rules is a serious matter, and one that could result in expulsion."

"But why do they care if they are expelled? Most of the time they want to be expelled so they won't have to go to school," she continued, giving Snape an even better idea of the type of student a remedial one might be here.

Snape saw the problem in answering that as his school was one of only a few in existence, and that students would rather follow the expectations than lose the training they needed to succeed in their world. Instead, he answered, "Our students follow their family traditions by being accepted. To fail would bring dishonour to the family as well as to themselves."

Barstow looked impressed. He sat down across from Snape and leaned forward. "So what are you saying your discipline plan will be? This isn't a school like yours. They won't care about honour here."

Snape sat back and examined the ball point pen in his hand. He thought it was another inelegant Muggle invention. Quill and ink were more fluid and expressive. The act of dipping the quill tip into the ink allowed one to think more carefully of what they wanted to impart to parchment. He looked at the paper and then back at Barstow. "Managing a classroom is not something I have ever had difficulty in. I suppose my plan is to be myself."

Smithe frowned in confusion. "That's your answer? That you'll simply be yourself?"

Snape shrugged. He knew they were sure that an answer such as that would not be acceptable. He also knew that he would be able to nudge the Headmaster to overlook any incomplete responses on his forms. These Muggles would not have to know that." He stood up and gathered the papers together. "I'll give it further consideration as I familiarize myself with the classroom." Without another word he turned and left the room. Striding down the hall, he returned to the Chemistry class room.

After closing the door firmly, he pulled out his wand. With the help of magic, it was not long before he had all the supplies organized as he wished, and was familiar with where everything was. A class roster lay on his desk. Sitting down, he perused it, trying to guess which ones would be the Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle group, and which the Trio. After mentally reviewing his plans for the first day, he closed and locked the door.

Tomorrow, the adventure would begin.


	24. Chapter 25

_A/N: I am just playing in JKR's HP dollhouse…she's very nice to let me! I don't own the characters that appear in her series…they're all hers…not mine…just in case you thought they were… erm…on to the story. Thank you for being so patient while waiting for these next postings! I have a new beta, so I hope she will let me send her rapid-fire chapters to read so I can get it all posted! Thanks to **logical-quirk**!_

Chapter 25: First Day of Summer School

Snape waited silently as the students wandered into the room. He stood in the corner that best afforded a natural-appearing shadow, enhancing it a bit so that he was easily overlooked by anyone not looking directly at him.

A number of students hurried to take places in the front, carefully placing their books and supplies in front of them on the high lab tables that also served as desks. Sitting on their stools, they began to talk quietly among themselves.

'I hear it's a new bloke they have as teacher for this term. I hope he's good."

"Yeah, I really want to get a good score for my university application."

"Do you think we'll cover everything they do in a regular term?"

"Depends on what idiots we're stuck with. They always slow it down; trying to play catch up on stuff they should already know."

Snape moved on to other, more noisy students as they entered. A girl was hanging on the arm of a boy, followed by two other boys. They went to the back of the room, shifting stools loudly as they threw their belongings onto the floor around the tables. The students already in place were giving them scathing looks as they watched them continue their laughter, wrestling around the tables. One of the boys made a crude comment to the girl. Snape thought that she would take offense, but to his surprise she smiled and then made a rude gesture in return. When they began to roll up wads of paper and throw them at each other and across the room, Snape stepped forward.

His voice was hard, cold, and had a tone no Hogwarts Student ever wanted to hear more than once. "You will take your seats immediately and the talking will cease."

His black eyes were one the students in the back. They turned surprised faces towards him, not having seen him there before. The students in front had turned in surprise as well. When had the teacher come in? Snape could read in their expressions that they were all confused that they had missed his entrance.

The students in the back quickly regained their composure and one of the boys scraped his stool slowly across the floor, causing a screeching noise that everyone cringed to. Smirking at Snape, he sat down. Now he could read it in their eyes that they were assessing him, looking for signs of weakness in the new teacher. Snape let them all look. He had made sure that his appearance would be severe. Totally dressed in black with his hair drawn back, he stood tall, with his arms crossed, chin lifted high as he glared at them with glittering eyes. There was no uncertainty in his face, only a stony impassiveness. After a few minutes of silence he spoke.

"There will be no idiocy tolerated in this class. There will be no immature objectionable language or gestures allowed." He stared levelly at the back as he said this. Then letting his eyes sweep the entire room, he continued, "The chemistry curriculum we are about to undertake is extensive and complex. Once we begin, it will be up to each of you to keep up. Our days are lengthy and we will spend portions of it reading, portions in lecture, portions in discussion and portions in actual laboratory work. If at any point you fall behind, you will stay after class to catch up. From this point on I expect your full attention. If it is lacking, the result could be serious injury." He stopped to allow his words to sink in.

A girl in the middle of the room raised her hand tentatively. At Snape's nod, she asked, "Serious injury, sir? Do you mean you will punish us? I don't think it's allowed."

Snape sneered, the effect being quite frightening as his teeth were bared in his glaring face. "_No_. I do not mean that I will punish you with injury. In a laboratory, any number of injuries might result from miscalculations, errors in judgment and sheer stupidity. It is my intention that every one of you leave each day with the number of digits you arrived with."

He looked over the room again. The students in the front were already taking notes. He thought of Hermione and smirked. The students in the back were leaning lazily over their tables, staring back at him. The students in the middle were a mix of the two extreme types. Some were appearing interested while others were still half asleep. Snape wished he had his teaching robes. They lent so much more to his menacing aura. Well, he would have to accomplish it another way. He began a slow pace around the room, arms still crossed before him. Now, as he spoke, he speared random students with an obsidian glower.

"You will be required to read the chapters each evening so that we will be able to begin immediately each morning. You will be required to be proficient in both your understanding and your expression of the studies. You will be required to be proficient in your laboratory experiments." He paused, letting his eyes rest on a particularly insolent-appearing boy. "Failure in any of these areas of requirement will be cause for failure of the course."

A ripple of displeasure went through the room as some of the students focused on the threat of failure. The girl in the back called out, "I was told I would easily be able to make up my grade."

Snape raised a black eyebrow at her. "You _will_ be able to make up your grade if you meet the requirements I have set. You will also raise your hand and wait to be called upon in the future." She fixed a baleful glare on him, but backed down when he shot daggers with his own glare.

He surveyed the class again. "Now, if there are no further questions regarding the course requirements, we will begin." Indicating the chalkboard, "The first readings are on the board. You will have an hour to read and then there will be lecture and discussion. I will expect everyone to participate in the discussion."

He walked back to his desk. "As you read, I will be calling your name. Please raise your hand so I will mark you present."

He read each name from the roster and noted each face that it belonged to. The group of intellects was Selena Parker, Linda Thames, and Deanne Dunlap. The group he thought would be difficult was headed up by William Archer. His apparent girlfriend was Julia Bishop. The other two were Miles Searcy and Trevor Blake. Breathing an inward sigh, he shook his head. Those in the back would be trouble. He could see it plainly that they meant to get by with as little effort as possible while causing the most disorder. He watched as the class silently read the assigned chapter. This first assignment would tell him how quickly most of the class could read and absorb the information. It would be futile to move ahead if most of them were not ready. He intended to pace the class with the best of them. The rest he would drag along with remedial assistance if they were willing. He knew some would push for leniency. They would get to know that he was never lenient.

By the noon hour break, Snape knew that he would have to make a change in the layout of the room. The students in the back had been inattentive throughout the discussion unless Snape stood beside their tables. Perhaps a little mixing of the 'houses' would be in order. He shook his head to himself. No, he would keep that back for another time. For now, he thought a simple rearrangement would suffice.

When the students filed back into the room following lunch, some of them stopped short. The chalkboard was still in the front of the room, bearing the afternoon assignments. Snape's desk was now in the back, directly behind the ones he had silently dubbed Muggle Marauders. The group of them stood looking from their tables to Snape's desk, to the front of the room.

Snape raised an eyebrow at them. "Is something amiss? Did you forget which seats are yours, perhaps?" He made a sweeping motion at their seats. "Just there, I do believe."

They frowned at each other. He looked into the eyes of the one he thought was their leader, William Archer. He read dislike there, and a need to be feared, a need to get even with any perceived slight. The others were looking to him as if he would tell them how they should deal with this turn of events. Before they could decide on any action, he spoke again, "Please take your seats so that we may begin."

William looked to the front of the room where the intellectual students were already sitting. There were not enough other places together where the Muggle Marauders might sit, other than the seats they had occupied earlier. It was just that they were now right in front of the teacher's desk. With a sullen glare at Snape, the boy slowly took his seat. Only after he sat down did the others fill in the seats around him.

Snape ignored them for the rest of the afternoon. When they failed to get any response to the looks they kept giving him, they settled down to do the work at hand. It was evident that Julia had some intellect, as she asked and answered questions during the discussion period. William was her boyfriend and he did not like it that she interacted with the class. She chose to ignore his whispered orders to stop being a brainiac.

The afternoon passed quickly and at the end of the school day, they had covered the first four chapters of the text. Snape stood before them, writing the nights homework on the board. He heard the urgent whispers behind him and sneered. They would learn that nothing got past his hearing. Without turning around he put up a hand to deflect the wadded paper ball that soared towards his head. It was heavy, as if something had been rolled up inside to give it weight. There were gasps when he did this without looking at the class. The wad had dropped to the floor at his feet. He finished writing the assignment before facing them. All eyes were on him. He remained silent, giving them a withering once-over. He let his eyes rest on William last. The furious face told him that he was indeed the one that had thrown the paper wad. It also told him that the boy hated being thwarted.

Snape spoke in a voice barely above a whisper, but the deafening silence of the class allowed everyone to clearly hear him. "I do believe that I told you first thing this morning that idiocy and immaturity would not be tolerated in this class. The actions of a few moments ago were both. If it ever happens again, you will wish that you had never stepped foot in my class. You will find that I only say what I mean. Do not test that. Ever. For now, we will pretend that a paper ball wrapped around a rock did not come flying from the middle seat of the last row." Everyone turned astonished eyes on William, who reddened under Snape's stare. "The assignment is on the board. You are to come ready to discuss. We will have a test over the first five chapters before lunch. After lunch we will begin a laboratory experiment." He looked over the class again, noting the ones who were writing down his every word, as well as those who were merely glaring. "Are there any questions?" There were none. "Then class is dismissed." He remained standing beside the board as they gathered their things and filed out.

No one spoke until they were out in the hallway. Once there, they apparently thought he could no longer hear them. William was ranting. "I'll get 'im, you just wait. And you, Julia, why are you so goody-goody in there? You're not to ever speak up like that again."

Julia ranted back, "If you want to fail again, that's your business, Wills. But I'll not make the same mistake again. I want to pass this time around. I love you, but you can't keep me from doing my best to get a good grade."

Snape heard her gasp as William roared, "You can't do your best with a broken arm. And that's what you'll have if you raise your hand in class or go against my wishes again in this."

There was another gasp of pain, and then one of the other boys, Snape thought it was Miles, spoke up, "Let her go, Will, you're hurting her."

"I'll do more than hurt her if she doesn't listen to me." There was the sound of feet stomping away, and then the sound of crying.

Miles said quietly, "Just do what he says, Julia. I don't like to see him hurt you."

"Shut up!" There was sniffling. "Are you gonna fail, just to make him feel like a big man? Well I'm not. He might be happy to work in a factory all his life, but I want to go to university. I'm not gonna play dumb so he can feel smart, either. He's just gonna have to deal with it."

There was the sound of her feet walking away, and then silence. Snape knew Miles was still standing there outside the door. He waited until the other boy walked away before going to the door and looking out. He watched as the boy walked slowly to the end of the hall and disappeared.

Snape closed the door and sat down at the desk to prepare for the next day. Today had been arduous. The students themselves were not so very different than wizarding world teens. They seemed to have the same behavior idiosyncrasies. He knew there were pairs or couples at Hogwarts, but he wondered if they ever acted like these, one controlling the actions of the other. With a sigh, he knew they did. Thinking back, he had overheard enough talk in his own house to know that a number of boys equated superiority with the ability to manipulate or control. The girls equated acceptance with behaving beneath their academic abilities. To be attractive, they believed they could not be more knowledgeable than the boy they wished to attract.

After shifting tomorrow's papers to the corner of the desk, he stood up. Withdrawing his wand he gave it a wave and the black board instantly changed to tomorrow's assignments and notations. It certainly felt good to be able to do that little bit with magic instead of the tedious Muggle way. Another wave of the wand had the classroom straightened up. He noticed the ball of paper on the floor then. Holding out a hand, he easily accio'ed it with wandless magic. With a brief flick of a finger the paper unwrapped itself, showing what was a small rock at its center. Snape stared at it for several moments. William was a boy with a temper and a lack of impulse control. It could be a decidedly dangerous combination. Back at Hogwarts, the boy would have been serving detention with Filch this very evening. Here, Snape would have to tread cautiously. He knew Dumbledore would not approve the use of magic against a student here, but he would be prepared to be discreet if the need arose. There was still the question about what actions the headmaster here would allow for infractions by students. He rubbed his temple. He had better find out beforehand. Taking a last look around the room, he exited, closing and locking the door. Stepping down to the teachers lounge, he found the two he had already met, as well as others teaching a variety of subjects. Everyone wore identical expressions of exhaustion. Barstow had an arm over his eyes as he leaned back in a chair. He glanced up at Snape.

"So. How do the gangs here compare with the ones in your experience, Snape?"

Snape looked around thoughtfully. Many of them seemed interested in his answer. He raised an eyebrow and gave a smirk. "They are manageable. The ones who presented as problems will no doubt try other approaches tomorrow. They will not succeed."

Sarah Smithe looked more tired than the rest. "How can you be sure of that? Didn't the hooligans try your tolerance today?"

"Of course they did. They are teenagers, after all. I believe it is in their job description to have mood shifts, impulse control issues, and a lack of behavioral concepts," he said, remembering a phrase Martin had used once to describe the problems with today's teens.

"So what did you do when they all sat in the back of the class and made it impossible for the others to concentrate?" another teacher questioned.

Snape thought about how to answer, and saw nothing wrong with telling the truth. "I moved my desk to the back of the classroom." At their quizzical looks, he added. "It has the benefit of preventing there being a back to the classroom. The board is in the front. If I am not there, I am at my desk behind them. They cannot see me without turning to look. They will not be willing to do that very often. It will make them seem to have an obvious desire to be unobserved."

The other teachers looked at each other for several seconds before their voices erupted all at once.

"Can you help me move mine?"

"Come on, I'll help you with yours and then you can help me move my desk."

"Do you really think it will work?"

"It can't hurt, can it? Come on. Let's get it done so we can go home."

Snape was suddenly alone in the lounge, everyone having gone to the classrooms to rearrange their desks.

Mr. Wimberly came in and he frowned as he looked around. "Where is everyone? I wanted to speak to you all about the day. An impromptu faculty meeting, if you will." He looked at Snape expectantly.

"They are moving their desks to the backs of their classrooms." He expected Wimberly to be interested in why, but he did not expect the reaction he got.

"What?! They cannot do that. There is a proper order of things and the teacher's desk is always in the front of the room, in a position of authority." He blustered out the door and Snape followed with his own frown. Wimberly entered the first classroom to find a group of teachers shoving student desks aside so that others could move the heavy teacher's desk. He stepped in front of them. "Stop this nonsense at once. You cannot move school property like this. The teacher's desk will go back to the front." He pointed the way with his short shaking finger.

The teachers all looked at each other and then at Snape. Snape could see that they were wondering whether to obey the Headmaster or question his reasoning. Snape stepped forward. "Surely, a teacher is at liberty to arrange the classroom for optimum benefit."

Wimberly took hold of the desk and made as if to move it back himself. "It's not a question of optimum benefit. It's a matter of acceptable teaching practices. The teacher's desk must be at the front of the classroom. That is where it belongs. We can't have you moving things all about on a whim."

Snape took in all their faces, the disappointment that a new way might be abandoned before it was even tried. He rolled his eyes. For Merlin's sake, didn't these Muggles have any backbone? If these teachers could not move their desks, he would be made to move his back. He was not about to do that. He was certain that the location of his desk would give him an advantage in classroom supervision. He moved towards Wimberly, drawing himself up to his fullest most intimidating height.

"At my school, teachers are allowed the latitude of determining how best to run their classes." Wimberly opened his mouth to protest, but Snape cut him off. "If the method does not work, no harm has been done. The desks may be moved back to their original locations. But," he paused and looked the man in the eye, "If it does work to provide more control over the students, you have been instrumental in recognizing a better way of classroom supervision."

Everyone was silent as Wimberly took this in. Snape could tell it was a great effort for the man to come to terms with this. Should he insist on the traditional or could he be part of something fresh and new? He thought about the acclaim that might come his way if this was successful. He thought of the ridicule if it was not. Snape could see the struggle as it played out over the man's features. Finally, Wimberly nodded reluctantly. But he pointed a warning finger at them all. "I want a full report at the end of each day. I want to know what happens in your classes and how the change of location for the teacher's desk has been helpful. I want to know if it makes any matters worse and I want it remedied immediately if it does. Are you all clear on that?"

There were nods all around. Snape wished more than ever to bite the irritating pointing finger off. The man should be grateful Snape had no werewolf blood in him, or he would have lost his hand by now. Idly he wondered what that fool Lupin was up to, and if he could be bought off to provide such a service … If Wimberly only knew …

Wimberly left the room in a huff. After a few moments passed and they were sure he was out of earshot, Barstow grabbed Snape's hand for a vigorous shaking.

"Well done, Snape. I've never seen such manipulation. The goofus didn't know what hit him.

The others paid their own compliments at Snape's ability to get things seen his way and then everyone went back to moving desks. By the time they were done, Snape had wished many times for just a few moments of privacy where he could wave a hand or wand and be done with the work. Magic may not be the best way for all things, but doing things in this laborious and back-breaking Muggle way was certainly not. He was very glad to bid everyone goodnight and set off for his flat. Knowing he had nothing at all in the tiny flat kitchen, he stopped by a market and bought a few staples.

Once back at the flat, he conjured a fire in the grate. As soon as he had, a voice sounded, "Severus, I'd like to hear about your first day." Snape looked and saw Albus's head in the flames.

With a weary sigh, he answered, "Bring tea and sandwiches when you come, old man. I'm starving."

The head disappeared and when Albus stepped into the flat he held a large tray with tea and roasted chicken instead of just sandwiches. Snape looked at it appreciatively, smiling tiredly at his mentor.

Dumbledore sat down and served them before saying expectantly, "I have been waiting all day. What happened and what was it like to teach in a Muggle school?"

Snape regarded the Headmaster in amusement. "If you really wanted to know what it was like, you should be doing this yourself." He shrugged as if he had no intention of telling about the day.

Dumbledore waited patiently and was rewarded when Snape decided that he was too drained to keep him waiting. After a few bites of chicken and a sip of tea, he sat back and locked his dark eyes to the eager blue ones. The mental retelling did not take as long as it would have if done verbally, but Snape felt even more exhausted afterwards.

Dumbledore chuckled. "Mr. Wimberly seems to be a bit like our Cornelius Fudge, doesn't he? He wants all the good credit and is not willing to take any responsibility that he can avoid for the bad. He wants everything to be done in familiar ways."

"He wants them to be the way he has set them. He wants to control every aspect of the teacher's work." Snape sneered.

"Yes, well, in that way he can be seen to be knowledgeable in ways that he is actually not."

Snape agreed. "That certainly seems to be true in this case."

Dumbledore still twinkled. "I knew you would be able to manage working with Muggles, Severus. This will be a great boon to us. The understanding we may gain through your work cannot be underestimated."

"What if I do all this and the information does nothing to help. It could be useless to gain such understanding of their ways."

"Ah." Dumbledore agreed with a nod. "Indeed it could be that we come away with no information of real value. However, the effort made to better understand those who are Muggleborn and raised will be useful in itself. The side of the Light will be able to say it holds the well-being and heritage of this part of the wizarding world in esteem."

Snape nodded. He was into the middle of it now. He was determined that after all his doubts and misgivings about this endeavor, he would now give it his best efforts. Not willing to admit it, he knew that those of Hermione Granger's caliber were out there. Their brilliance would be an asset to the Dark Lord if he realized it could be tapped; if he were willing to overlook their perceived inferiority in order to gain an advantage. He wanted to win. Snape knew that for all the insistence on pure blood being superior, he would not hesitate to use any means necessary to accomplish it.

Dumbledore laid a hand on Snape's shoulder when he stood up. "I will stay in touch to see how things are progressing. If you have need, I am always available."

"I don't suppose you could persuade Lupin to pay Wimberly a visit on the next full moon, could you?" His voice was only half joking.

"Severus." Dumbledore chided gently. "What a thing to wish for."

"You haven't had the pleasure of the man's insufferable finger pointing. If you had, you would be fire-calling Lupin this minute," Snape insisted.

Dumbledore just shook his head with another chuckle. He gave a wave and then he was gone in a roar of flames.

Snape stood up, staring into the fire. When he fell asleep that night, he dreamed of being a werewolf. In his dreams, Wimberly never had a chance.


	25. Chapter 26

Chapter 26: Rescue Me

Snape ruled his class with an iron hand. After that first day, the Muggle Marauders seemed to settle into the routine, albeit reluctantly. Snape noted that Julia no longer volunteered questions or answers, but willingly responded if called upon. Her answers were seldom wrong and Snape wondered what had happened to cause her to join such a group of misfits. He had more cause to keep a close eye on them when working on experiments. More than once, he had barely averted a student being injured when William made errors in his procedures. Snape suspected the errors were intentional, but as yet had no way to prove it. The boy was all innocence and remorse when something went wrong, but Snape had caught the hidden smirk he gave his friends when he thought Snape couldn't see him. He was like an intentional Neville Longbottom.

Snape frowned to himself. Now that he was seeing how teens behaved out here, he could acknowledge that at Hogwarts, he was rigid in his expectations to the point of possessiveness. He wanted to instill in the students a deep respect for the art of the Potion. While there was certainly a component of danger in this high school Muggle lab, there was much more danger in the laboratory at Hogwarts. Here, the types of ingredients were elemental. But at Hogwarts the ingredients used in Potion making included those never imagined in this world; they were much more complex. He also had a different persona to uphold there. One that he had to admit he liked very much. Teaching this summer school was like a vacation away from his compulsion to be a black bat from the pits of hell. He smirked. At first that overheard name had insulted him. Now he found it fitting. He liked it. Here it wasn't quite possible to pull off the black bat from hell while in Muggle attire. But he knew that he was still feared by most of the students in the class. William was an annoying exception. The boy would more than likely fail the subject of chemistry yet again.

Along with observing the Muggle behaviors of the teens, Snape was learning quite a bit from the adults. When he had questions about particular behaviors of students, he found that he could throw out a casual comment in the teacher's lounge and then listen to the multitude of return comments. Often, the results gave Snape the insight he needed to deal more effectively with a student.

He found that the students who were neither brilliant nor remedial got lost in the shuffle. He surprised himself by making a more determined effort to include them in discussions, and to give them positive praise when it was deserved. Their scores rose accordingly when the test results were calculated. He would catch himself wondering if the same things would be true at Hogwarts. He knew that he tended to favor those of his house. But seeing things from this viewpoint made him realize that he had been ignoring large sections of students. His premise had always been that if they belonged in Potions they would do well. If they did not, they would eventually be culled by their ineptitude for the subject or dissuaded from further attempts by his scathing remarks about their abilities. Perhaps he should rethink his methods at Potions instruction … but he did like having such a dark reputation. What would such changes do to that?

Not having a laboratory to brew potions in was a great disadvantage. He missed the hiss and bubble sounds in his own lab. He missed the smells of the ingredients, the herbal mixed with the sharp odors of dried animal parts, the organized glass containers filled with the usual to the rare. He missed hanging over the vapors of the cauldrons until his hair was greasy and lank with from the heat of them. He was used to filling his time outside the classroom in pursuit of improving current potions for the hospital, and researching potions for use by the Order. He would also work on the potions demanded by the Dark Lord. He had to be careful that they were of high quality, but not ever quite the way he ordered. In this current situation, he was hoping that the stock he had on hand would get him through the summer without having to return to his Hogwarts lab to brew any.

Because he had so much unaccustomed free time, he found himself walking through Muggle London. Having midnight suppers at sidewalk cafés allowed him to observe even more of Muggle life. He found an interest in the variety of Muggle architecture. He perused the technical books in the library. The people who frequented the library gave him another opportunity to observe Muggle culture. The diversity of everything astonished him every day. He would also call on Albus for a firechat. It seemed he had an insatiable appetite for hearing about the ways Muggles lived.

Snape sat at his desk, grading some papers while the students reviewed the material that would be covered in a comprehensive exam the next day. All was quiet until a voice shouted. "No!" He snapped his head up, looking around the room. There was no indication that anyone had said or heard anything. He immediately realized that it was Harry. He had almost forgotten about the link. He had supposed that the distance between them was too great for the link to reach across. Setting his pen down, he looked around the room again. He saw only the backs of the students as they bent over their notes and books. Closing his eyes, he stretched out his thoughts.

'_Harry?'_ There was no response. He knew he had heard him though. What was he saying no to? What had happened? He tried again. _'Harry?'_

'_Yeah?'_ His mind voice sounded like it was trying to sound casual and it didn't quite succeed.

'_I heard you yell. What's wrong?'_

'_Why does something have to be wrong?'_ He detected an edge of panic. He opened his eyes to check on his students, then bent his mind to draw closer to Harry. The panic was growing. _'I didn't call you.'_

'_Harry, I sense that you are in a panic. Tell me what's happened.'_

'_Nothing is wrong. I'm where I'm supposed to be aren't I? I'm not using magic, I swear!'_

Snape frowned. Not using magic? Of course he wasn't using magic. He wasn't allowed outside Hogwarts until he was of age. Why would Harry say that? _'I didn't think that you were. I heard you and I wonder if there is something you need assistance with.'_

'_You know Dumbledore said I have to be here, so I don't think there's anything he'll let you do … even if you wanted to.'_

Snape took a deep breath. '_What do you mean by that? What would you have me do?'_

There was a long silence. Then, '_Nothing. You don't need to do anything.'_ Feelings of depression, hurt, loneliness, and fear came through before Harry snapped them off. _'I'm fine. I'm sorry I disturbed you, sir.' _The mental door closed in Snape's mind.

'_Harry, wait. Talk to me.'_ Snape felt only the void that signaled Harry had cut off the contact.

Snape _was_ disturbed. Something was happening and Harry thought that Snape would not want to help him. While he knew that he was not Harry's favorite person, he thought that Harry had realized Snape was part of him now. The link had been forged, as the prophecy foretold. Of course, Harry didn't know about the prophecy. In his eyes, Snape was still a suspect person; someone who had verbally mistreated him for the last five years. Never mind that things had been different during the last part of the school year. It would obviously still take a lot for Harry to maintain a trust in him.

It was difficult to keep his focus for the rest of the day. He practically pushed the students out the door when it was time to dismiss. Wimberly had called a faculty meeting to assess the progress of the summer students. Snape was anxious to be out of the school and back at the flat so he could check with Dumbledore about Harry. When Wimberly passed around a questionnaire asking for a detailed report, Snape almost snarled in frustration. He placed the paper in his satchel and stood up.

Wimberly held up a hand. "I want that report today, Mr. Snape. Before you leave."

"I have a family emergency. I will get the report to you as soon as I can."

Wimberly frowned. "There haven't been any calls for you through the front office. When were you notified of this emergency?"

Snape back-tracked. "I was notified last night. I did not wish to inconvenience you with my absence, so I have been waiting until the end of the day to leave."

Wimberly gave him a considering stare. Then he nodded, "That was good of you. It is hard to get a fill-in during the summer. You may leave." When Snape moved to do so, he continued, "I do need that report as soon as you can manage." Then he frowned, "You _are_ planning to be here tomorrow aren't you? We couldn't possible get a fill-in without more notice."

Snape nodded. "I intend to be here unless things are worse than I expect. If that happens, I may be able to engage my own replacement." He nodded his good-bye and left before Wimberly could think of anything else to say.

Once through the door of the flat, he lost no time in calling Dumbledore. Igniting a fire, he threw in the Floo Powder, knelt down and poked his head through to the Headmaster's office. Any other time, he would have been gratified to see the rare look of surprise on the old wizard's face when he heard Snape's voice.

"Albus!"

"Severus? This isn't our usual meeting time. Has something happened?"

"I believe something is happening with Harry. I heard him yell, and when I reached out to him he closed himself off."

"Perhaps just a bit of fun that he was having –"

"No," Snape insisted. "This was something else. The boy seemed to think I was contacting him to make sure he wasn't using magic. Have you had any word from the ministry about that?"

Dumbledore looked thoughtful. "No. Nothing about Harry. But they do not often tell me of every student caught with their wand in use during summer break. They just issue their warnings and admonish the parents to keep a closer watch."

"What about these Dursleys? During our detentions, I gathered there is no great affection between Harry and them. Harry's feelings seemed fearful and even hurt. Would they do him harm?"

"There is no love lost there. Harry is protected there because his aunt bears Lily's blood. The blood protection will extend until Harry is of age."

Snape sighed in frustration. "But would they harm him?"

"I had not thought so." Dumbledore stroked his beard. "I know Harry isn't happy there, but it is the best place for him in the summer."

"How do I get to him quickly?"

"Are you certain that you should?"

"I am certain that I will not sleep until I see him and make sure of his well-being."

Dumbledore gazed at Snape for a long moment. "Very well. Arabella Figg lets us Apparate or Floo to her house when the Order needs to check on him. He never knows we have been there. He doesn't know that a squib lives in his neighborhood."

"I'll go there then."

"Severus, Harry needs to be with his aunt to get the full benefits of the protection. If he is merely unhappy about his living arrangements, you cannot change that."

Snape gave the Headmaster an impatient look, "I do understand about blood protection, Albus. I intend to check up on him to satisfy my own uncertainties. That's all."

He withdrew his head from the flames of his fireplace and grabbed another handful of Floo Powder.

"Arabella Figg's house." He thrust his head into the flames once more. He was immediately assailed by the odor of cats. A short plump woman jumped at his appearance. "Pardon me, Madame. I am here to check on Harry."

He had expected a smile and an invitation to Floo through for tea, but the little woman instantly wrung her hands and began to cry. "Thank goodness! I didn't know who I should call and I didn't want any Muggle authorities getting involved-"

Snape had heard enough with just the distraught tone of the woman. "Stand aside. I'm coming through." In a second he was standing in the feline-smelling living room.

Arabella Figg gaped up at the tall man in black as she wiped her eyes with a tissue. "I do hope you're in time."

"In time for what exactly?" Snape asked with narrowed eyes.

"That man Dursley has been on a bender for days. I hear yelling all the time. Petunia and Dudley have gone away, but they left poor Harry –"

"His aunt is not in residence?" Snape thought that the blood protection might not work if the aunt had willingly abandoned the home.

"That's what I'm trying to tell you if you'll listen," she said reproachfully. "Harry is there alone with that dreadful man. He's always resented the boy. There's no telling what he's done. I hear him yelling at all hours –"

"Harry's yelling?"

"No, the oaf is yelling. I haven't seen Harry at all today. Usually he stays out in the back yard until Dursley is sleeping. But today –" she halted as tears welled up in her eyes again. "I hope he's holed up somewhere in the house. The man has been on a rampage since Petunia decided to skip out."

Snape knew he had to see Harry himself. "Point out the house."

As she drew back the curtains, Arabella said again, "Thank goodness you came. Bring him here and you can use the Floo to get him back."

Snape looked at her briefly. The woman obviously believed Harry needed rescuing. He hoped that it was just a womanly over-protectiveness on her part. Surely the situation could not be that bad. Dumbledore would never allow such a thing to happen to the Boy Who Lived.

Snape walked rapidly towards the house on Number Four Privet Drive, scanning the surrounding area as he went. He opened the link, knowing that in this closer range, Harry would hear him easily.

'_Harry?'_

As soon as the link was established, Snape felt an excruciating pain in his left eye, the back of his head, and his right arm. He staggered for a moment before realizing that the pain was Harry's and not his own. There was no answer to his search for a connection. All he could get was the pain. With snarl, he hurried faster to the house.

He strode up to the front door, wanting to simply blow it off its hinges, but deciding that discretion was a better choice for the moment. Raising a hand, he knocked and waited. A shuffling noise came from inside and then the sound of locks being undone. The man Snape had seen at the train station stood there, swaying on his feet. He reeked of alcohol and body odor. His eyes were bloodshot and swollen with sleep. Snape wanted to get the full picture of the situation. He knew he would not be leaving without Harry, but he also knew he would have to answer to Dumbledore for removing Harry from the house where he was supposedly protected.

He managed to keep his voice level. "Mr. Dursley?" Dursley nodded. "Might I have a word with your nephew, Harry?"

The eyes grew suspicious and a bit fearful. He looked Snape up and down, taking in the normal appearance of his Muggle clothing. "If you're from the welfare people, you can just be on your way. The boy is my responsibility to keep in line and I'll not have you interfering with my duty."

To any Muggle, the menacing Dursley might have put them off and they would have backed down. The man obviously thought Snape was a Muggle. Snape used it to his advantage.

"Be that as it may, I need to ascertain the boy's well-being." Snape knew by the sway of the man that he was still drunk and not thinking clearly.

He couldn't have been when he answered, "He's well enough to get his work done, but does he lift a finger to help out around here? I tell you, he never should have been foisted off on us. He's a strange one, prone to outbursts. I have to keep him under control."

"Tell me, Mr. Dursley, which methods of control do you favor?" Snape asked smoothly.

Bristling with drunken pride, "The only methods freaks like him understand, of course. I had to make sure he couldn't get any of his own kind of licks in, didn't I? Well I certainly put a stop to him even thinking about it."

Snape knew then that the man had beaten Harry to prevent him from using magic. It explained the pain Snape was experiencing. He calmly pushed his way into the house, shoving the stumbling fat man out of the way. After closing the front door, he drew his wand, leveling it at Dursley's throat.

Dursley gasped in surprise. "You're one of them! Get out of my house! I'll not be having you freaks in here! It's bad enough to be forced to tolerate the boy –"

"Where is Harry?" Snape's voice was soft. When Dursley didn't answer, Snape shoved him up against the wall, wand sinking into the flesh of his neck. "Where?" he snarled, baring his teeth.

Dursley's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. He looked at Snape fearfully and then his eyes rolled back as he was lost in a drunken stupor. Snape let him slide to the floor.

Snape glared down at him for a few moments. Then, closing his eyes, he reached out for Harry. There was still no response, so he began to focus on the pain. Where was it originating from? He walked through the house slowly. He was here somewhere. The house was a shambles. Furniture was overturned. There was trash littering the floors. Broken pieces of what were once decorative knick-knacks lay everywhere. Snape scanned every room. He knew Harry's bedroom from the Hogwarts pennant on the wall and the trunk by the bed. The door hung off one hinge. There was blood staining the wall by the door and a dried pool of it on the floor, but Harry wasn't there. Snape felt rage building up in him along with a fear for Harry. Where was he? He tried to focus harder, narrowing his probe and shouting to Harry.

'_Harry!' _

There was a brief opening of the link, the response weak. _'Help me?'_ as if the help might be in question and not a given.

'_Where are you? Tell me so I can get to you.'_

'_Stairs –'_ and then it was gone again.

Snape ran back to the stairway and looked down. What did he mean? He wasn't on the stairs. Walking slowly down, he bent his thoughts towards the pain. At the bottom of the stairs, his eyes fell on the small door to a storage closet underneath. There was a slide bolt on the outside and it was firmly locked. Pointing his wand, Snape _did_ blow this door off its hinges. Stepping forward, he peered into the dark cupboard. Curled up on the floor was Harry.

He went down on his knees, muttering _Lumos_ to light up the dark interior. Harry was facing away from him, and in the wand light, Snape could see that he was trembling.

"Harry? Can you hear me?" He didn't expect to get a verbal response since Harry had not even been able to sustain a mental response. The cupboard was dark, and he needed to use his wand for light. But he couldn't do that and use the wand to assess any injuries. He was sitting thinking when he heard a noise behind him.

"Don't move, sir. Hold your hands up."

Snape went rigid. He knew that it must be the Muggle police. Neighbors must have called. He hoped that Arabella Figg saw what was happening, and would alert Dumbledore. He slowly raised his hands, whispering a _Nox_.

The policeman saw the wand, "What's that in your hand? A knife?"

"No. Just a stick I found on the floor here beside the boy. He's injured and needs attention." Snape kept his voice calm.

"Stand up with your hands where I can see them." Snape followed the instructions. "Now back out of the cupboard."

Snape kept his eyes on Harry as he backed out into the open. He had not moved at all. He turned to face the policeman and saw that he had a partner who was bending over Dursley. The man held a handgun and it was pointed at Snape's chest. He called over his shoulder, "How is that one doing?"

The partner stood up. "I don't believe he's injured. Smells like the brewery. Probably just passed out." He looked at Snape. "Tell us who you are."

Snape knew he had to be cautious with his answers. "I am a friend of the boy. I came to check on him when I had not heard from him."

The partner scanned their surroundings and then looked back at Snape. "Did you do all this?"

Snape gave him a derisive sneer. "I arrived just before you did. There was hardly time for me to accomplish this much damage."

"Neighbors who called it in said you forced your way inside." He was looking at Snape in a measuring sort of way, determining whether he was likely to be telling him the truth.

Snape held himself relaxed, his face devoid of emotion. "Dursley let me in. Do you see any sign that I damaged the front door?"

"No, but that one looks pretty much done in," he said as he nodded to the cupboard door on the floor. He noticed Harry for the first time, back in the dimness of the cupboard. "Is that the boy? Neighbors said they've been hearing lots of shouting."

"I had only just found him. He appears unconscious. Do you plan to leave him there or will you call for help?" Snape asked darkly.

Both men had the grace to redden and the one standing by Dursley took out his radio. The one holding the gun asked, "Do you have identification?" At Snape's nod, he added, "Keep one hand up and pull out the identification slowly. Oh, and drop that stick while you're at it."

Snape let his wand fall to the floor and then withdrew his wallet. He flipped it open and held it out. The policeman was still examining it when a commotion could be heard out on the front lawn through the open door. Snape could hear Arabella Figg's indignant voice.

"Of course the bloke in black didn't do anything! It was that oaf Dursley that's hurt Harry, if he is! Mr. Snape just came to see about him."

More police stepped through the door, crowding the entry way. Behind them, Snape caught sight of Kingsley Shacklebolt and Nymphadora Tonks. They were dressed in professional appearing Muggle clothing. Snape silently thanked Mrs. Figg for alerting whomever she had called.

Shacklebolt and Tonks took in the scene rapidly, from the gun being held on Snape, to Dursley's unconscious form, and then to Harry, still on the cupboard floor. Shacklebolt snapped his eyes to Snape's in surprise. "Is he …"

Snape calmly interrupted him, "He is unconscious and injured, quite severely, I believe. These gentlemen seem more interested in how the house became so damaged."

The policemen reddened again, "Look here, it's our job to look out for the homeowner. When we came in, we saw you standing over the boy, the man out like a light and the premises trashed. What are we to believe?"

Tonks had moved to the doorway, blocking out anymore gawking from the outside. Shacklebolt turned to the policemen and gave a slight wave of his hand, murmuring a quiet but firm _Obliviate!_

The one holding the gun lowered it, a slightly confused look on his face. "So you two are taking over, then? Okay."

Tonks stepped towards him. "Take the homeowner into custody. We may have questions later."

The police hauled up Dursley and between all of them managed to drag him out the door.

Snape turned immediately to Harry and picked up his wand. "Light up the area while I see how badly he's hurt." Tonks held up her lighted wand while Shacklebolt stood at the front door. Once more, Snape bent over Harry. Using his wand he touched Harry's head and body gently. He cursed under his breath as he gathered the information he required.

Tonks asked, "How bad is it?"

"His skull is fractured, as is the area around his eye. His right arm is broken in three places. He is bleeding internally." He felt the rage building in him again and wished to have his hands around Dursley's throat. Very carefully, he turned Harry over. Although Harry made no sound aloud, Snape felt the agony of his injuries as he was moved. He looked at Tonks. "Do you carry any field potions for pain?"

She immediately dug into her pockets and withdrew several small vials. Snape examined each of them before choosing two. "Help me raise his head."

With Tonks's help, he was able to get the potions into Harry's mouth. He knew they were working when he felt the pain begin to subside in his own head and arm. Shacklebolt called over his shoulder, "We need to use the Floo at Arabella's. Can he be moved?"

"I don't see that we have any choice. He needs to be at St. Mungo's. We cannot let them take him to a Muggle hospital." Snape was staring down at the boy on the floor. The potions had stopped the trembling.

Tonks asked, "Can we risk an _Enervate_? If he walks on his own to Arabella's we can convince the Muggles he was not as badly hurt as we first thought. We can avoid a lot of memory charms if they don't see him _Mobiliocorpused_."

Snape really didn't like to think about how it would hurt Harry to walk the distance between the houses, but he didn't see any alternatives either. He took a deep breath to steel himself to the pain he would feel when Harry was brought to consciousness. He nodded to Tonks and she pointed her own wand at Harry as Snape held him steady.

As soon as the words left her mouth, Harry cried out. Snape bent closer to Harry.

"Harry – we're here to help you. It will be alright now. I know you're hurting, but you must walk to Mrs. Figg's house." He looked into the fearful green eyes, willing him to understand what he was saying.

Harry finally nodded his understanding, a grimace on his face as the motion caused throbbing in his head to increase. Snape stood up and then slowly drew Harry to his feet. He held himself like a weakened old man, each movement tentative and careful. With Snape on one side and Tonks on the other, they made their way out the front door. Shacklebolt shut the door behind them. Neighbors were still gathered on the lawn and they watched the procession curiously. Arabella rushed along in front of them when she realized they were headed to her house. A few neighbors voiced a question about where they were going, but Shacklebolt fielded them neatly by telling them Harry was not badly hurt and the neighbor had agreed to watch him for now.

They made it inside the door of the house before Harry passed out, Snape catching him. Without stopping, Snape scooped him up as Shacklebolt threw Floo powder into the fireplace, calling for emergency assistance from St. Mungo's. He stood back and Snape stepped through, carrying Harry. Shacklebolt followed. Tonks gave Arabella a reassuring pat on the shoulder before she too followed them to the hospital.

_A/N: Please review! My muse is hungry! This story will have 43 chapters and I have started the sequel. Let me know what you think (unless it's a flame and then I will just use my own Asbestios Protego counter curse!_

_Special thanks to my new beta **logicalquirk**!_


	26. Chapter 27

Chapter 27: Suffering in Silence

The atmosphere was somber around the ward where Harry lay. The Healers had been with him every moment, spelling him, administering potions, consulting with one another. Snape paced, along with Tonks and Shacklebolt. He was reluctant to impose his presence for fear of getting in the way of the Healers. But he had an instinctual feeling that he might be able to speed Harry's healing with his touch, like Harry had done for him. He wasn't certain if the connection allowed him to do that or if it was a gift that only Harry had.

He was glad when Dumbledore arrived, along with Minerva McGonagall. He wanted to throttle the old warlock for believing that Harry was safe with the Dursleys. But he wanted the comfort of having his mentor near now. He wanted to know if Dumbledore thought that he might be able to help Harry.

Dumbledore spent a long time with the Healer-in-Charge. When they returned to the bedside, the Healer-in-Charge spoke. "Professor Dumbledore believes that Professor Snape may have the ability to augment Harry's healing if he can touch him for a period of time." He looked around at them all. "He has reason to believe there is a connection between them that cannot as yet be explained rationally." He stood at the edge of Harry's bed, looking down at him. "We have done all we can for the moment. The potions and spells are working, but slower than usual. He is critically injured. I am going to allow Professor Snape to try it, because frankly, I don't believe our methods will work fast enough to save him."

There were gasps around the room, as they all stared down at Harry and then up at Snape. Snape noticed that Dumbledore had not mentioned anything about the prophecy. He met Dumbledore's eyes. He saw remorse there and understood that the old man was sorry that he had thought that Harry was safe. For a brief moment, Snape was glad of any discomfort Dumbledore felt. Harry might have been spared this if Dumbledore had not insisted on the blood protection.

The Healer-in-Charge cleared the room of everyone except Dumbledore, Snape, and himself. He intended to see this special connection at work, if it did work.

Snape shrugged out of his suit jacket and vest. After removing his shoes, he carefully sat down on the bed. Remembering how he had held Harry when he had been sleeping from the sleep hex, he thought that it might be the best way again. He didn't want to cause Harry any more pain, but he needed to reposition him. He had to ignore the pain he was feeling in himself. He sat back against the head of the bed and carefully gathered Harry into his arms. Even in his unconsciousness, Harry cried out in agony at the movement. Snape gritted his teeth and the Healer-in-Charge assisted as much as he could.

It only took moments for Harry to relax, once they were fully in contact with one another. Snape could feel the thrum of energy passing between them. It wasn't as strong as what he had felt when Harry had healed him, but it was there. He knew this would work. Closing his eyes, he sighed deeply. The pain in his own head and arm were beginning to recede.

Dumbledore and the Healer watched over them as Harry fell into a real sleep, Snape's arms around him. He had threaded fingers into Harry's hair, cradling his head to his chest.

The Healer passed his wand over them and looked at Dumbledore in amazement. "You were right. It's working. I've never seen anything like this. Can they do it for others?"

"Like I told you, this is a new development. I was not at all certain if their connection would allow Severus to heal Harry, as Harry had healed him. I was afraid it would be a one-way energy." He met the eyes of the Healer. "What you see here cannot leave this room. It is somehow tied up with Harry's destiny and we can't risk unsavory people finding out about it."

The Healer nodded his understanding. The men sat down in chairs, spending the rest of the night in silent watch.

Snape lay there, feeling the energy flowing. He opened the link into Harry's dreaming mind.

'_Harry.'_ White mist swirled all around. Snape could hear soft crying. _'Harry?'_ He walked slowly, trying to get a fix on the sound. After a few moments the mist parted to reveal Harry sitting on the ground, his head in his hands. Snape stood over him. _'Harry,'_ he said again.

The boy looked up in surprise and Snape saw fear in the green eyes. He knew there must be surprise in his own face when Harry stood up. This was not the fifteen year old that Snape held in his physical embrace. This was a small boy, a Harry that wasn't any older than seven. Snape frowned deeply and the boy stepped back from him. Before Snape could think of anything to say, Harry had turned and disappeared into the mist. He ran after him, catching him by the shoulder. When he did, he felt the physical body stiffen as well, rejecting the touch.

'_Harry, it's just me. It's alright. Remember last time?'_

The little boy ceased his struggle and looked up at him in resignation. _'I don't know you. You're just a bad dream. Go away.' _Snape frowned more and felt Harry stiffen again. The boy threw an arm across his eyes to block out the sight of Snape standing there. _'You're scary and you're not real. Go away!'_ It was a child's plea for an end to a nightmare vision.

Snape could feel that this Harry really didn't know who he was, and he wondered if it was because Harry didn't meet him until he was older. What was happening to Harry's mind? Why was he a child here? He loosened his grip on Harry's shoulder. Keeping his voice calm, he spoke, _'You do know me. I am your friend.'_

'_I don't have any friends. Dudley won't let me.'_

'_Dudley cannot stop you from having friends.'_

'_He can if he pounds 'em…if he pounds me.'_

'_Your aunt allows him to do that?'_

'_She doesn't care. Dudley never does anything wrong. I'm the bad boy.'_

'_I'm sure you're not a bad boy, Harry.'_

'_She says I am.'_ He looked up into Snape's face, his eye's tearful. _'She say's I'm evil and no one will ever love me.'_

Snape felt his rage at Harry's family surge up again. The small Harry must have felt it, too, because he cried out in terror and broke away from Snape again. Snape heard his running footsteps fading into the fog. He stood there, thinking. Harry could feel his emotions while they were in this dream state. Harry was a young child here. Harry did not know him. He knew he had to somehow make Harry realize that he wasn't a little boy anymore. He concentrated on occluding his own emotions so that the anger he felt was hidden. Then he followed the sounds of soft crying. He found Harry sitting all curled up, hugging his knees with his head against them. He was rocking himself as he cried.

Snape slowly sat down beside him. When Harry looked at him he was careful to keep himself from scowling this time. It seemed like his black bat persona was working very well in this Harry's dreams. Harry continued to gaze at him through his tears.

'_Why aren't you going away?' _

'_Friends do not leave their friends when they are sad.' _He hoped to appear less threatening, so he tried a small smile. Since he normally did not smile, it felt strange, even here in dreaming. He was gratified when Harry gave a small nod, wiping his face on his knee. He thought that Harry's state of mind might be connected to what had happened. If Harry would talk about it, perhaps it would help. _'Can you tell me why you are sad?'_

For a long time, Harry just looked at him, as if deciding what to say, and if it would make any difference. Then_, 'I tried to be good. I did what they asked. Some of it, I can't do very well.'_ His little face frowned then, _'When I'm bigger, I'll be able to do the work better. Then they will love me when I don't break stuff. When I'm bigger, they won't have to punish me. I'll be more good.'_ The child's voice trembled with uncertainty, even as he expressed the wistfulness he felt, hoping to please those who would never be pleased.

Snape found it harder to keep his own feelings in check as he felt the mental anguish coming from Harry. He shoved it down, the burning desire to hurt them for the hurt they had inflicted on this child. Instead, he reached out a hand to this Harry.

'_Sometimes, grown-ups make you do things they shouldn't. They say things that hurt you. Your aunt and uncle shouldn't have done this to you. It was wrong of them.'_

He watched to see how Harry would react to that.

Harry stared at the outstretched hand. _'I wish all the time that I can make them stop. Sometimes things happen and I don't know how…they say it's my fault…I'm a freak like my parents.'_

'_You are not a freak. You are special. You're parents were not freaks either. They loved you very much.'_

_Then why did they leave me?'_

How could he explain that to a child in this state? If this was a true manifestation of Harry at this younger age, he didn't yet know that he was a wizard. To hear that his parents had been killed by an evil wizard was not something Snape wanted to divulge just now. He needed to soothe this nightmare of being back at an age when he felt helpless to change any of his living conditions. Then it occurred to Snape, that's what Harry had done. He had regressed back to a time when he was still wishing to be old enough to help himself. Now that he had failed to save himself from abuse as a teenager, he had gone back to wait for another chance. He had had no one to stand up for him then, no one who cared what the Dursleys did to him. Snape could change that now, with this Harry.

'_Your parents didn't want to leave you. I can't explain what happened very well right now, but I do want you to know that they would have hated that you are feeling like this. They would want you to have lots of friends.'_

The tears welled up again, '_I don't even have one. Sometimes I 'magine one, though.'_

Snape gently touched a small arm, '_I'm your friend, Harry.'_

'_Did I 'magine you up?'_

Snape gave a real sort of smile at that. _'Yes. You wished for me and now I am here.'_

'_Will you stay with me? Always?'_

'_Yes. I'll always stay. They can't make me leave you.'_

The boy launched himself at Snape, burying his head against the shoulder. Taken by surprise, Snape almost lost his balance as his arms came around the small body. He rocked Harry as he cried. He kept his own feelings back as he listened to the torments poured out of the past, the abuse that had been stoically endured for the years that Harry had lived with the Dursleys. At last, the tears were spent and the child Harry slept in the dream Snape's arms.

Snape stirred at a hand on his shoulder. Opening his eyes, he looked up into Dumbledore's.

"You need to get to your school," Dumbledore said softly.

Snape noticed the early signs of daylight in the high window. Looking down, he saw that Harry was still against his side, Snape's arm around him. He slept soundly. Snape stretched out his mind and knew the worst of Harry's pain was gone. The healing energy must have worked its magic during the night. He slid out of the bed, disentangling the arm Harry had thrown over his. Harry sighed, but continued to sleep after turning over the other way. Snape noted that his eye was still bruised and slightly swollen. Once he was away from Harry, he stretched and popped his strained muscles. After rubbing at his face tiredly, he looked at Dumbledore. The Healer was waving an examining wand over Harry. Snape kept his voice low so as not to awaken Harry.

"His dreams were those of a hurt child. It may be better now, but we should be prepared. Dursley hurt him quite badly, as did the aunt, with her neglect and uncaring." He glared at Dumbledore. "How could you let a child, any child, live like that? But especially Harry?" He felt his anger anew as he remembered it from the night before. "When I think of how I treated him all these years, I am sickened. But at least I thought that I was doing so to an ungrateful, spoiled brat. If I had had any idea that a child of Lily's was being abused, I would have put a stop to it at once. Do you realize how much I could throttle you at this minute? How easy it would be for me to go to that man Dursley and murder him for what he's done?"

He halted his tirade when he heard Harry whimper from the bed. With an indrawn breath, he closed his eyes, closing the opening in the link that was allowing Harry to feel the anger that Snape was feeling. When he opened them again, the Healer was looking at him strangely.

"He feels what you feel? Your emotions?" At Snape's nod, he continued, "His injuries are stabilized. They are healing normally now. I don't understand what you did, but it worked. We can continue to administer whatever potions he needs, and they should be sufficient."

Snape sat down and put his shoes back on. Waving his own wand over himself, he freshened the clothes, ironing out the wrinkles. After standing back up, he met Dumbledore's look again. "I hate to leave him. I promised I wouldn't. But I think he'll understand."

"Why wouldn't he? He knows you have to teach at the Muggle school. If it makes you feel better, he won't be alone. Minerva, Poppy, or I will be here. Tonks and Shacklebolt even offered to sit in when they're off work."

Snape snapped, "No, it doesn't make me feel better, Albus. The boy has been traumatized. But I suppose it will have to do for now, won't it?"

Dumbledore stopped him as he began to stalk out of the hospital room. "If I had realized how bad the situation was, I would have intervened, Severus."

Snape glared at him angrily before responding softly, "Perhaps you should have checked. After he was at Hogwarts didn't you give any credit at all to his reluctance to return home each holiday?"

"We all thought that it was his normal reluctance to return to the non-magical world," Dumbledore admitted sadly.

Snape shook his head in irritation and strode out the door. He said nothing to the witches and wizards gathered outside Harry's door. Glancing at the Muggle watch on his wrist, he knew he would have to Apparate to get to the school in time. His classroom was locked, so he could go directly there.

When he walked out of his classroom a few moments later, he ran right into Mr. Wimberly. The Headmaster looked at him with a frown. "I didn't see you come in, Mr. Snape."

Snape looked down his nose at the man. "I have been here for some time. I thought to get ahead of the day."

Wimberly nodded approvingly. "Well, don't forget that report I need. You should be able to write it up while your students take their test." He passed by Snape and hurried off down the hall. Snape strode to the teachers lounge and poured himself coffee. Someone had laid out biscuits and he helped himself.

He felt that he had a precarious hold on his temper and when William sauntered in singing a nasty song, he lost it. He walked over to the teenager and leaned down until his face was within inches of Williams. "Sit down and cease that caterwauling immediately. You will ignore any impulse you have to be a continual disruption in this class. You will speak only when spoken to by me and you will keep your attention on your own work at all times. Is that very clear, or will you prove once and for all that you are in fact a dunderhead by choosing to act the fool?"

William's face reddened and his friends snickered. He shot them all warning glares and they hurriedly looked down at their own notes for last minute studying. He ignored Snape in favor of busying himself with his own notes.

When everyone was present, Snape passed out the exam papers. It was lengthy and comprehensive and it brought many groans of despair from the class. At a dark scowl from Snape, the groaning stopped and the students bent to their work.

In the silence of the room, Snape thought about Harry. Was he awake yet? How was the healing proceeding? He allowed himself to examine the feelings of irritation and anger he felt towards Dumbledore. He knew that he had done what he thought was best. But Merlin's beard, hadn't the man ever thought that the Muggles might be dangerous? He remembered from his own school days, overhearing Lily Evans talking about her sister. She had been crying to her best friend because Petunia had sent a letter back with ugly words of hate scrawled across it. Snape hadn't heard the whole story, but if the relationship between the sisters had been that bad then, why in the world would Dumbledore suppose that things would be different for a child born of the sister Petunia hated?

Snape stood up to walk slowly around the room, checking to see that everyone was focused only on their own tests. William was attempting to sneak a look at Julia's paper. Snape couldn't resist a flick of his wrist. Williams pen exploded, ink gushing out across the paper and his hands. Cursing loudly, William jumped up, trying to save the paper from the spreading ink. He glared up at Snape while Snape returned his look mildly.

"A pity, Mr. Archer. You'll just have to begin the test again." Taking a clean test paper, he laid it to the side of the table. "Clean up the mess, and then start over." He walked away, a smirk on his face. He noted the satisfied look on Julia's face when William's back was turned.

It was almost time for the noon break when Tonks walked into the classroom. She sat down on the edge of his desk. The students looked at her with interest, and Snape glared until they returned to their papers. It was a mark of seriousness that Tonks had refrained from wearing shocking hair color or outrageous clothing. She looked the role of proper young lady teacher substitute in her conservative dress and pulled-back blond pony tail. Snape murmured, "Is there a problem?"

Tonks nodded. "I'll take the class. What's to do?"

"They're taking an exam. Take it up in ten minutes for the noon break. They may finish it when they return at one." He handed her a class roster and pointed to William's name, then nodded towards his back. Tonks gave a nod of understanding. I'll inform the Headmaster that you're filling in."

She gave him a worried look. "Don't take too long. I think Harry needs you." With a curt incline of his head, he strode out. He found Mr. Wimberley in the lounge, eating biscuits.

The man reddened at being caught eating the teachers snacks and blustered, "You shouldn't be out of your classroom, Mr. Snape. The students are not to be unattended during exams."

Snape favored him with one of his more fearsome sneers and the man reddened even more. "My replacement has taken over the class. She is fully competent to monitor the students until I return."

"Well, what about the report I asked for?"

Snape narrowed is eyes and the man stepped back. "I've not had sufficient time to complete it. You will have it in due course."

He turned his back on him and headed for the hallway. He heard Wimberley following him, but as soon as he had cleared a corner he Apparated away.

He reappeared outside Harry's hospital room. Even from outside he could hear the struggle going on inside. He opened the door and as soon as Harry saw him, he wrenched himself away from the restraining hands attempting to hold him and sped towards Snape. Before he buried his head against his chest, Snape caught sight of the frantic look in his eyes. He wrapped his arms around the teenager, looking in question at the Healer, Dumbledore, and McGonagall.

Dumbledore asked, "Hasn't he been linking with you, Severus? He's been beside himself ever since he awakened."

Snape shook his head, "No. I was waiting for him to contact me, so as not to disturb his rest and healing." He took hold of Harry's shoulders and pulled him back to look into his face. "Harry, I'm here. You know you can talk to me even when I'm not."

The green eyes were frightened and Harry opened his mouth as if to speak, but no sound came out. Snape looked at Dumbledore again, "What has he been saying?"

"Nothing. It's as if he cannot speak. He seems frightened of any magic." The three other's looked on as Harry trembled in Snape's grasp.

McGonagall said, "He acts as if he doesn't know us. Is that possible? Can it be from his head injury?"

The Healer shook his head. "His injuries have healed enough that he should not be experiencing memory loss. But it appears that that is what is happening." He looked at Snape. "But he seems to know you."

Snape pulled Harry gently back to the bed and sat him down. Sitting beside him, he lifted his chin in his hand. "Look at me." Harry met his eyes, pleading silently. Snape opened the link between them. _'Can you hear me, Harry?'_

Harry looked astonished to hear Snape's voice when he hadn't seen his lips move to speak. He nodded slowly. '_How can I be hearing you when you're not talking?'_

'_We are talking. We've been able to talk like this for some time now. Why are you not speaking aloud?' _he asked.

Harry shook his head. _'I can't talk to them…they do strange things. They make things happen. I'm scared.'_

'_They're doing magic, Harry. You can do it too.'_

Harry looked astonished again, _'No I can't. I can't do anything like what they did.'_ Harry looked at the others as they stared back. Meeting Snape's eyes again, he scooted closer. _'They tried to get me to take this really awful medicine. It smelled like poison.'_

'_It wasn't poison. You should take it. It will help you feel better.'_

Harry shook his head. _'Only if you give it to me. I don't trust them.'_

'_They won't hurt you, Harry. They are your friends, too. They care about you.'_

'_Then why are they trying to hold me down? I don't like that… it reminds me of…'_

'_Of what?' _Snape frowned at him.

'_My uncle when he hurt me. He always held me down when he-'_ Harry stopped and looked away, unwilling to finish his sentence.

Snape felt his anger at Dursley renew itself. He focused his thoughts on helping Harry. To change the subject, he asked, "Do you remember Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall?" He hoped that in asking aloud, Harry would answer him aloud.

Harry answered through the link. '_No. They're old and scary.'_

Snape smirked at that. _'They have known you since you were born.'_

'_Then why didn't they help me? Wasn't I a good enough boy? My uncle said I was bad. I was, wasn't I?'_

Snape pulled Harry close, rubbing his back. '_You were never bad. Do you remember me telling you that?' _

Harry nodded. _'You were scary. But then you told me you were my friend.'_

Snape sat there for a few moments then asked, _'How old would you say you were, Harry?'_

He shrugged, _'I'm…I don't know…I'm a little kid, I guess. Do you know how old I am?'_

Snape sighed, _'I'm not sure either.'_ Giving Harry a quick hug, he said, _'I need you to take the – medicine- now. You need more rest, and it will help you get better. Everything will probably be clearer when you wake up again.'_

Harry leaned against him and Snape felt a tremor go through him. He looked up at Snape and Snape saw trust. It made him feel an anxiety unlike what he had felt before. He had wanted Harry to trust him, but he had not expected to be comforting a child-like Harry.

'_It's gonna taste bad, isn't it?'_ he said with distaste. When Snape nodded, he looked thoughtful then nodded. _'Okay. I'll do it if you want me to.'_

Snape held out a hand to the Healer. A vial was placed in his hand and after examining it, he handed it to Harry. Harry took it and smelled it, wrinkling his nose. He looked at Snape with uncertainty, but at Snape's encouraging nod, he tipped it into his mouth. As he fell asleep, Snape lowered him back to lay on the bed. Pulling the blanket up to cover him he brushed a hand over the boy's hair. Standing up, he heaved a great sigh. Looking at Dumbledore, he said. "This will take a while to explain."


	27. Chapter 28

Chapter 28:

Chapter 28: Possibilities

Snape gazed down at the sleeping boy, then back at the Healer. "His mind has not recovered. He is like a small child, of seven, I would say."

The Healer ran his wand over Harry's head. Frowning, he shook his head, "The disorder is not a magical one. It may be that there is some residual effects from such a severe beating by the Muggle, or …" his voice broke off.

"Or what?" McGonagall asked sharply. "Can't you give him something for it?"

"I cannot heal with magic what was not caused by magic. If he does not return to his former mind on his own, I'm afraid he will have to stay here in our chronic ward."

"He will not stay here." Snape stiffened, his eyes fiery. "He does not remember that he is a wizard. He was frightened by the magic you three were using in this room against him. When I reminded him that he could do magic also, he denied the ability."

The Healer shook his head yet again, "But he _is_ magical. Surely you can't mean to send him to a Muggle hospital?"

Snape sneered at him, "Of course not. I will take him with me when his physical injuries are sufficiently healed."

"That won't be necessary, Severus. Minerva and I will see him to Hogwarts. He will be comfortable enough in the hospital wing where we can help Poppy watch over him." Dumbledore said.

Snape scowled. "I won't have him there without being in residence myself." He raised his chin and peered at them. "He thinks you are both old and scary."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled a little at that and McGonagall looked affronted. "But what of your employment at the Muggle school?"

"I will keep Harry with me. He won't be in the way. I have already informed the Headmaster that I had a family emergency. I will simply tell him that my- _nephew_- must be in my custody. He will deal with it, or I will help him deal with it." The tone of his voice told them he was in no mood for argument.

They all looked down at Harry. McGonagall voiced the question that no one had yet dared, "What if he does not recover his mind? What if He Who Must Not Be Named finds out? Harry has no defenses at all, if he denies his magic." Then she got the affronted look on her face again and she looked at Snape derisively. "I would also like to know how it is that _we_ are old and scary while he accepts _you_ without question."

Snape smirked, answering, "I can provide whatever protection he needs. I will know before anyone else if the Dark Lord has any suspicions. If I am summoned, I will bring Harry to Hogwarts." He paused before going on, "As for you being old and scary, I admit that he was frightened of me as well, when he first encountered me in his dreams last night. However, he believes that I am something he _'magined_ up; someone to be his friend when his family would not allow him to have any."

He turned to the Healer. "If he is well enough, I will return for him this evening. Even if he doesn't speak to you, he can hear you. If he appears frightened, refrain from the overt use of magic in front of him."

The Healer huffed, "I think I know how best to treat him."

"Yet you admit that his ailment is not purely magical in nature. Have you experience with Muggle psychiatry?" Snape asked smoothly.

'Well, no. But you don't either." The Healer groused.

"True enough. But I believe that the connection we share will enable me to draw him back to himself." He looked hesitant then and looked into Dumbledore's eyes. _'At least let me try.'_

Dumbledore looked at the Healer. "I believe that Severus is the best one to care for Harry." The Healer began to look offended and Dumbledore hastened, "If Harry becomes worse, Severus will consult with you and bring him back to either here or Hogwarts." The Healer appeared slightly soothed by this.

Snape straightened and with a last look at Harry he said, "I have to get back to the school. Tonks can more than likely handle any problems, but I'd rather she didn't have to." He addressed the Healer, "I will return this evening. If he gets anxious, tell him to try thinking his words to me. Perhaps if he can talk to me, it will calm him."

The Healer nodded. Professor McGonagall laid a hand on Snape's arm. Looking up at him she spoke with concern in her voice, "Severus, you've never had the best relationship with Harry … perhaps it would be better for one of us to take care of him."

He gave her an irritated roll of his eyes and scathed, "Do you think I would say that I wanted to do this if I did not? We have developed a rapport. It may not always be ideal, but we had been learning what the boundaries were with each other. Trust is never an easy thing. It will not be in this case either. I am prepared to deal with whatever happens." With that, he walked out to the hallway of St. Mungo's, where he Apparated to his flat. From the flat, he walked quickly back to the school.

Tonks was walking slowly around the room, her hands behind her back. All was quiet as the students worked on the remaining parts of their test. Snape raised an eyebrow in question. Tonks grinned and gave a roll of her eyes toward William. Snape immediately noted the way his left hand was bandaged, an ice pack laying on top of it as he wrote out the test.

"Hello, Professor. You'll be glad to know that most of your students behaved very well. The problems we had were quickly taken care of." Tonks said brightly.

Snape looked around the room with narrowed eyes and asked, "What sort of problems were there, Miss Tonks?"

"It was a simple misunderstanding. Mr. Archer seemed to believe that I was here for his entertainment. I made it clear that I was not. His hand isn't broken, but I don't think he'll try to pinch anyone else's behind anytime soon."

Snape glared at William who refused to look up. Standing beside the table where William sat, Snape murmured, his voice almost a purr, "You do realize that such actions are considered assault, do you not? If Miss Tonks so chooses, she could have you up on charges." The boy's face turned a pale green as Snape continued, "That might make it difficult for you to finish your summer course work. In turn, you will fail. Is that really your goal?" The lowered head gave a slow but definite shake. Snape maintained his very soft and dark voice, "Then my strong suggestion is that you pay more attention to correcting your deplorable social habits and keep your focus on the work at hand. If you cannot manage it, I will press the charges myself."

Tonks followed Snape as he walked out into the hallway where they could not be overheard, Snape looked around to make sure the hallway was empty. Turning to Tonks, he saw her look of admiration,

"You've really calmed down your teaching methods, Professor. I thought you might give the kid a Bat Bogie Hex at the very least."

"That would have gone over well with Muggles," Snape said sarcastically.

Tonks grinned. "Maybe not. But you seem to know a lot about Muggle law."

"The Trio saw to my adequate preparation."

Tonks frowned at the reminder of Harry. "How is he? They just told me I was to get you there right away."

"He is not himself, yet. He will be staying with me after today." He looked at her more seriously then. 'Did you retrieve his things from the Dursley's"

"Yes. We have his school trunk. We found a load of stuff he had hidden under some floorboards in his room, including his wand. Hagrid has his owl. She's a little hungry and needed a good night of exercise." She shook her head at the thoughts. "It looked like most of his time was spent in that cupboard, though. I never thought his own family would treat him so badly. He was lucky to be alive when you found him."

"What is happening with Dursley? Do _not_ tell me he is to be released, unless you want to see me break every promise I have made to behave in an exemplary Muggle fashion," he warned.

Tonks looked uncomfortable and Snape's face grew thunderous. She quickly said, "We had to do a fair amount of Memory Modification in the neighborhood. There were quite a few Muggles on the lawn as we left. Including what we had to do to make the policemen believe that Harry's injuries were minor. So … yes … he was released this morning."

Snape closed his eyes, breathing deeply. He didn't know if the force of his rage would reach Harry, but he knew he couldn't take the chance that it might. He promised himself that he would avenge Harry, even if he had to break wizarding law to do it. The man would not get away with what he had done. He felt a little better by making that promise and was able to relax. Tonks was looking uncertainly at him when he opened his eyes.

"What are you planning, Snape?" Then she held up her palms in a warning, "No, don't tell me. I'd be bound by Magical Law Enforcement to report it." She shook her head, then. "But I sure would like to join you in whatever you might do to him."

Snape glanced into the classroom to check that all was well. Then, "If you could have Harry's things at my flat later, I'd appreciate it."

"Of course. And if you need me to fill in for you here at any time, I know what to expect now."

He nodded his thanks. She looked around carefully, and seeing no one, she Apparated away. Snape walked back into the room and surveyed the room. A few students were finishing, the ones who knew the material well. When they raised their hands, he collected their papers, dismissing them with a nod.

Sitting back at the desk, he pulled out the paper requesting his report. Shaking his head with aggravation, he began to fill it in, wanting to have it out of the way.

Harry sat on the edge of the bed, looking lost and small. He kept his hands clasped tightly in his lap and stared at the door. They said the dark man was going to come back. Where was he? When would he get here? What if he didn't come? He caught the old woman – was her name McGonagall? – looking at him. Her mouth was set in a straight line like she was angry with him. His aunt used to look at him like that, didn't she? But she would scream at him, saying lots of mean things; things that made his stomach hurt, and feel like there was a great knot in it. This woman didn't scream. Maybe she meant what she said, when she said she only wanted him to feel better. Maybe the dark man was telling the truth when he had said she was a friend too. Harry thought that the dark man must have been teasing him when he said Harry had magic. The uncle always said that people who did magic were evil and they were freaks. Harry didn't want to be a freak. He didn't want to be evil. Tears welled up in his eyes. Why would the dark man say Harry had magic? That meant Harry was evil, didn't it? Now he would be in real trouble. If his aunt and uncle found out, they would make Harry do more and more work to squash it out of him. He would get beaten again when something happened … Sometimes bad things happened when Harry was upset. That made them so angry. He didn't want to be locked in the cupboard in the dark again. He didn't want to see the uncle towering over him in a rage, fists raised …

Harry jumped when the door opened and Snape walked in. The dark man was frowning, but then Harry heard his voice, even though his lips didn't move.

'_How are you feeling, Harry?'_

'_Scared. I think I'm in trouble, aren't I?'_

'_Why do you think that?'_

'_You said I had magic. My uncle said magic is bad. That means I'm bad. Are you taking me back to them? So they can squash it out of me?' _

Snape sat down beside Harry and hesitantly took his hand.

'_You are not at all bad. Your aunt and uncle are bad. You will not be staying with them.'_

'_Where am I to go, then? They said I belonged in a lock up place.'_

'_Would you like to stay with me?'_

Harry could hardly believe that the man was asking him what he wanted to do. He was never asked, only told. He slowly nodded his head. Then he asked,

'_Will they let me stay with you? They never let me do anything.'_

Snape squeezed the boy's hand, _'You don't have to worry about them. They will have no say in what you do now.'_

Harry gave him a small smile and then he said earnestly, _'I promise to be good. I'll try really, really hard so strange things won't happen.'_

Snape shook his head, _'Harry, if strange things happen when you are frightened or upset, that's normal. It's called accidental magic, and all children who are magical can do it. You won't be punished for it.'_

Harry shook his head vigorously_. 'I'm not magic. I don't want to be a freak.'_ He crossed his arms, his lower lip jutting out.

Sighing, Snape shook his own head. '_We don't have to talk about that now. It can wait until you are ready.' _Inside, he hoped that would be soon. Standing up, he drew Harry to his feet. Harry was small for his chronological age, and Snape now thought that was likely due to years of neglect and abuse. It wasn't too hard to see him as the child he was in his mind at the moment. He looked very uncertain and scared still. Snape thought that it would be best to explain up front that he was a wizard. He couldn't have him getting hysterical once they had left St. Mungo's. He drew his wand. Harry looked at it in horror, stepping back. _'Harry, it's alright. It's just my wand. All witches and wizards have one.'_

Harry looked over at McGonagall and the Healer who had walked in.

'_They pointed their wands at me. I didn't like it. They were trying to make me talk to them.'_

Snape scowled at the others_. 'They were not trying to frighten you. They were trying to help you. They cannot hear your thoughts like I can.'_

Harry looked surprised at that_. 'Is it magic? Talking to you in my head?'_

'_Yes. It's part of your magic. It's part of mine, as well.'_

Harry looked thoughtful at that. _'Can you do other tricks, too?'_

Snape rolled his eyes at that. _'We'll talk about that later, too. Are you ready to go now?'_

'_Are we taking a taxi? I never get to go when they take a taxi. It's too expensive.'_ He looked eager.

Until that moment, Snape had planned to Apparate back to the flat. Harry's question reminded him that magic would be better left alone for the moment. He gave Harry a considering look.

'_Actually, it might be better if we walk. It's not far and we can stop for something to eat.'_

Harry's eyes grew wide. _'Eat out? You mean I would get my own food and not what you have left?'_

Snape had to work hard to keep a furious blaze out of his eyes. _'You may have whatever you like. You choose.'_

Harry could not have looked more ecstatic unless it was Christmas. _'Let's go now!'_

'_Let me have a word with Professor McGonagall and your Healer first.'_

Snape explained the details of the conversation he had just had with Harry. McGonagall promised to relay it to Dumbledore. Snape led a wide-eyed Harry through the corridors of St. Mungo's. He stuck close to Snape's side, wary of the obviously extraordinary things happening all around. He gave a huge sigh when they finally emerged onto the sidewalk in front. He looked confused by the dirty abandoned store front that hid the hospital and Snape steered him away. _'I'll explain about that _much_ later.'_

Harry was truly like a child as he took in the sights on the streets of London. He was almost dancing in delight at the many eating places to choose from. He finally settled on pizza. As they sat at an outside table Snape noticed Harry frowning.

'_Don't you like it?'_

He looked up at Snape_, 'Oh yes. I like it … it's just that it seems so familiar, and I don't remember ever having it before.'_

'_You have had it before.'_

He frowned at Snape. _'Why don't I remember then?'_

Snape wiped his mouth with a paper napkin as he considered his answer. _'Harry, there are a number of things you don't remember right now.'_ At his worried expression, he continued,_ 'You have been through a great deal and wanting to forget about a lot of things is normal. When you are ready to remember, you will.'_

'_Like the talking?'_

'_Just like that.' _Snape agreed.

Harry ate another bite of pizza and then looked at Snape. _'Did I know you before I forgot?'_

'_Yes.'_

'_I can't remember your name.'_

Snape looked at the questioning face. What to answer … '_I am one of your teachers. Professor Severus Snape.'_

Harry waited for a few moments before asking, _'Do I call you Mr. Snape?'_

'_No. Since we will be spending so much time together, you may call me Severus. However, once school begins again, you must address me as Professor.'_

Harry shrugged agreeably. _'Okay.'_

They walked on to the flat, Snape allowing Harry to stop and look into store windows and ask questions along the way. Some questions were very simple ones, concerning purely Muggle things. Occasionally, he would ask a question about magic, but he would quickly change the subject when Snape was answering. Snape came to believe that he was trying to come to terms with the possibility that he was magical, but couldn't quite do it yet.

Once they were inside the flat, Snape showed Harry his trunk._ 'This is yours. Your school books, clothes, and other belongings are in here.'_

Harry opened the trunk and immediately saw his wand lying on top of everything else. Snape watched him stare at it for a long time. Then he carefully pulled some pajamas out from underneath it, using even more care not to touch the wand. When Harry had changed into his pajamas, Snape decided that it was time for him to see magic being done in a matter-of-fact way. He drew his wand and with a few muttered words, the sofa became a bed for Harry. Snape gestured that Harry should get in but he shook his head, looking at the bed suspiciously.

'_Harry, you have to go to bed and sleep. This is your bed. It's just a bed.'_

'_How did you do that?'_

Snape reversed the transfiguration and a sofa reappeared_. 'If you get your wand out, I'll show you how to do it.'_

'_No, that's okay. You do it.'_

Snape said the incantation clearly, making his wand movements more deliberate so Harry could see. The bed popped back in place of the sofa. Harry raised his eyebrows, but after a few more minutes, he climbed in. Snape stood beside the bed, looking down at him.

'_I'll be in the next room if you need anything. In the morning, you will go to work with me. It's at a Muggle school. No magic is used there.' _

'_Is it my school?'_

'_No. This is a summer assignment for me. In the fall term, we will return to Hogwarts. That's your school. We teach witchcraft and wizardry there.'_

'_Am I a good student?'_

'_Yes, you are. In fact, you and your two best friends helped me prepare for teaching at this Muggle school.'_

'_You keep saying that word, Muggle. What is that?'_

_Muggles are people who are not magic at all.'_

'_Who are my best friends? I don't remember them. I wasn't allowed to have friends.'_

'_At Hogwarts you have many friends. Now, go to sleep. It's been a very long day for both of us.'_

Snape lay in his own bed, thinking. Where had all this patience come from? He would never have believed that he could treat Harry Potter with such care. It made him realize what he had been missing in not having a family of his own. This must be what parents deal with all the time, the questions, the wonder of new discoveries, the child's happiness, and their fears. He had taken on this responsibility without seeing it as a parenting issue. He was looking at it in terms of protecting the one who was prophesied to be the savior of wizard-kind. But this Harry was a child who knew nothing of that prophecy. He was frightened of anything magical, because his uncle had beaten him for being magical.

He had dozed off when he jerked awake, feeling the bed move. He sat up. Harry had come into the room and was now curled up in a ball at the foot of the bed.

'_Harry? What's wrong?'_

'_It's dark in there.'_

'_I can turn up the light.'_

'_Can I stay here?'_

'_It would be better for you to be in your own bed.'_

'_Please …'_

Snape stood up and held out his hand to Harry_. 'Come back to the other room.'_

Obediently, Harry took the offered hand and shuffled along with Snape back to the bed in the living area. After getting back under the covers, Snape noticed him clutching at the blanket. What would help a child stay in his own bed? He vaguely remembered having some sort of ragged stuffed animal in his own distant childhood. Had Harry ever had one? Or was that also something that had been denied him by his aunt and uncle?

Didn't most children have a teddy bear? Striding back to the bedroom, he picked up a throw pillow from his own bed. He frowned at the pillow, thinking. For some reason, an image of Lily Potter flashed into his mind. He could easily see her comforting the child Harry, handing him a soft plush animal…a deer?

Of course. It would have been a representation of James' animagus form. Rolling his eyes, Snape took his wand from the bedside table and waved it over the pillow. Holding the little stuffed animal in his hands, he tried not to look at it in distaste. It didn't look anything like the mighty stag that James had been able to transform into. Or Harry's own Patronus. But this could be another way of introducing those ideas to Harry, as well as comforting the fearful child. He carried the toy back to the other bed and sat down beside Harry.

'_Your father, James, could make himself change into a stag, a deer like this,' _he said, handing it to Harry._ 'You can make a protective form called a Patronus that is also a stag.'_

Harry looked at the animal, his face surprised. Snape waited for the questions about James or the Patronus. Instead, Harry breathed in awe, '_You're giving me a new toy? One of my very own?'_ Harry sat up, and reaching up to Snape he flung his arms around him. _'Thank you! I've never had a new toy!'_

Snape awkwardly patted the boy's back. Merlin's beard! Just when he thought he couldn't possibly hate the Dursleys more … Harry had never had a new toy? What kind of people had those relatives been? More and more, Snape saw that the boy he had always thought to be so much like his father James had been nothing like James at all. James had lived a life of privilege. His child had been raised in deliberate poverty of both physical and emotional necessities.

Harry clutched the deer to his chest and burrowed happily back under the covers. Snape waved a hand to dim the lights, leaving the room softly lit. He brushed a hand over Harry's forehead, ruffling back his hair. _'Sleep well.'_ Harry's eyes were already closed, a smile on his face, as the new toy rested just under his chin. Snape gazed down at him, watching as his breathing deepened into sleep. To himself, he pledged, 'Lily, I'll make sure your child is protected this time around. I'll keep him safe. I swear on my life that the Dursleys won't ever get their hands on him again.'


	28. Chapter 29

Chapter 29: Harry at School

Harry insisted on taking the deer with him when they left for school the next morning. Snape convinced him to let it be shrunk to fit in his pocket.

'_You'll fix it later?'_ he asked.

'_I'll put it back to its normal size at bedtime. For now, it would be better if you kept it in your pocket.'_

They were walking to school, and Snape explained a little about what Harry could expect.

'_The students are a little older than you. They are taking this chemistry class either to get ahead or to make up for failing it earlier. We cannot do magic or talk about it. They do not know we are wizards.'_

Harry looked confused and he slowed down his pace.

'_I'm not a wizard. You might be, but I'm just Harry. I can't be a wizard.'_

'_You are a wizard. I know you don't want to believe that right now. For the moment, I merely want you to understand that this school is nothing like Hogwarts. You went to Muggle school before you came there, so some things may seem familiar.'_ He looked down at the boy beside him_. 'I am telling the Headmaster that you are my nephew. I expect that he will act all blustery about it. He's a bit pompous. I need for you to behave. Can you do that?'_

'_What am I to do all day?'_

'_I'll ask one of the other teachers if she could lend us some books for you to read.'_

'_My aunt always said my hands were too dirty to look at books. I'll be sure to wash them first.'_

'_Your hands are fine, Harry.'_ He put a hand on Harry's shoulder and gave him a gentle push to hurry him along.

They arrived a little bit early and Snape took Harry down to the teachers' lounge. Smithe and Barstowe were in there drinking coffee and looked up at them with interest. Snape introduced Harry.

"This is my nephew, Harry. He's to be staying with me now, and so is accompanying me to school." He turned to Harry, still saying aloud, "Harry, this is Miss Smithe and Mr. Barstowe."

Harry looked at them silently. Snape had been hoping the routine introductions might trigger a verbal response from him. Barstowe held out a hand to Harry. Harry looked up at Snape who nodded to him. Harry held his hands out, but instead of to shake, he held them out palm up and then slowly turned them over, offering them as if for inspection. Barstowe withdrew his own hand in confusion, frowning at Snape. Snape reached out and gently lowered Harry's hands.

Quietly he said, "I told you, your hands are fine. They are clean." To Barstowe and Smithe he said, "The circumstances of his being placed with me are – difficult to explain. For the moment, he does not speak." To Smithe, he asked, "I was hoping that you might have some books that Harry could read for today. I'm afraid my classroom has little that will keep his interest."

She was beginning to nod when Wimberly entered the lounge. He looked at Harry with a deep frown. "Students are never permitted in the lounge. Leave immediately."

Harry blanched at the tone of voice and backed up to stand behind Snape. Snape was already stepping forward. "This is Harry, my nephew. He's staying with me."

Wimberly frowned even more. "You cannot have family members with you as you teach. It's not permitted. This is not summer camp and he is not a registered student. He will have to leave."

Snape's voice was hard. "I'm afraid that I must insist on his being here. The family emergency that I told you about has resulted in his being placed in my custody. The alternative is that I leave your employment."

Wimberly narrowed his eyes at that, thinking of possible responses to give. A triumphant expression crossed his face and he said, "Ah, but think of the wages you will lose. I'm sure that would put a hardship upon you that you can scarce afford."

Snape stared at the man levelly and then replied in a dangerously low tone, "I do not need your wages, Headmaster. If you recall, I am here to assess your school, not pad my coffers, as you seem to believe. I do know that it will be difficult for you to secure a replacement if I walk out that door." He towered over the man. "Harry will stay with me. He will not interfere with my duties."

Wimberly now looked shocked that Snape had challenged his authority, and dashed his assertion that Snape needed his teaching position. He finally waved a dismissive hand and stalked out, saying gruffly, "Be sure that he doesn't or you'll be out of here, Snape. I'll be checking on your class, you can be sure."

The door slammed behind him as he left and Snape muttered, "How such a dunderhead became Headmaster …" before catching himself and shaking his head in aggravation. He turned back to the other teachers.

Barstowe was looking at him with admiration. "You certainly know how to assert yourself, Snape. That was brilliant. I don't think anyone has been able to stand up to him like that before."

Smithe held out her hand to Harry. "Shall we find some books for you, then?"

Harry looked up at Snape who nodded his head that it was alright to go with her. He still looked very doubtful, after what had just transpired between Snape and Wimberly. Snape bent a little towards him, "Mr. Wimberly cannot make you leave. You will be safe with me. Miss Smithe will bring you to my classroom after you have the books."

Harry looked at Smithe's outstretched hand, but put his own behind his back, not wanting to take hers. She withdrew hers, but acted like it didn't matter. She walked to the door, and merely behaved as if she knew that Harry would follow her if she didn't press. "I have lots of classic novels, and some books of poetry you might like, Harry. I'm sure there will be something. You can take several, if you wish."

Harry gave one last questioning look at Snape, who nodded at him to follow her. After he was gone, Barstowe commented, "He's about twelve? He seems very timid."

Snape poured himself a cup of coffee. "He has been through a major trauma. He is fifteen."

Barstowe looked astonished at that. "What did they do, starve him?"

Snape nodded, saying grimly, "I am beginning to think that they did."

"This was your family that did that? How did you not know and put a stop to it before?"

Snape felt irritated at the personal questions, but in the interest of keeping up appearances, he answered, "I had not been in contact with my family before things became so desperate." When Barstowe looked as if he had more to say, Snape held up a hand. "I truly do not wish to discuss it, if you don't mind. It's been – hard."

"Of course, of course; I didn't mean to pry. Family situations can be quite sticky, I know."

Snape finished his coffee and then went to his classroom. Students were beginning to arrive, and several were already at the door when he unlocked it. He reviewed his plans for the day as the rest of the students arrived. William was already glowering at his friends, so the day didn't look promising in that regard.

They were mostly seated when the door opened again and Harry came in. Smithe smiled at Snape as she held the door, watching Harry go to Snape's desk. "If he needs more to read, he's welcome to come to my class."

Snape nodded and she left. Harry had an armful of books that he laid on the desk. He looked up at Snape, smiling. _'Look! She let me take all these for today! And she didn't once say my hands were too grubby.'_

Snape indicated the chair behind the desk and Harry sat down. Then he seemed to realize that many other eyes rested on him. He looked around the classroom at all the students staring curiously at him. He froze in the process of going through the books.

Snape told the room, "This is Harry. He is my nephew and he will be sitting in on our class."

There were some "'Hello, Harry's" heard scattered about. Harry stared back at them all and then suddenly he stood up. Snape sensed the panic and reached out his mind.

'_It's alright. They are just curious about you.'_

'_I don't like them looking at me!'_

He scraped the books off the desk and into his arms. Dropping to the floor, he scrambled into the kneehole beneath the desk. Snape sighed.

Choosing to leave him alone, he turned to the class. "Today, we will review what the exam covered yesterday. This afternoon will be spent in a laboratory practical. You will be assessed for your organization of materials, completion of experiment, and your analysis of the data you collect."

A few students were still staring at his desk, where Harry was concealed from view. Snape reminded them, "You will keep your focus on your work, so as not to make dangerous errors." He looked at William. "_You_ will also keep your focus on your own work." William glared back at Snape before the fire in the black eyes caused him to look away.

The morning passed slowly as Snape went over the written test, discussing what the correct responses should have been. He was gratified that there were many satisfied expressions, so he began not to dread the actual scoring of their exams after all.

At the lunch hour, Snape waited until the room was empty and then he closed the door. Walking around behind the desk, he sat down on the floor. Harry was sitting hunched over, a book open in his lap. He looked out at Snape, whose first inclination was to ask Harry to explain himself, explain his actions. But then he knew that Harry couldn't do that. Not this Harry.

Not using the link, he said, "It's time for lunch and a walk will do us both good."

Harry looked doubtful. _'I don't want to see all of them.'_

"Will you stay here forever, then? I can't think it will be very comfortable come bedtime."

'_Why aren't you talking inside my head?'_

"Because you need to hear real voices speaking to you. You need to think about speaking aloud yourself."

Harry's jaw tightened, his lips pressed together like he never planned to open them again.

Snape stood up, and extended his hand down to Harry. Harry looked up at him stubbornly and Snape intoned firmly, "I insist that you come out for lunch. If it makes you feel more secure, you may stay under there this afternoon. For now, the class is empty and they are gone to lunch as well." Harry continued to look stubborn until Snape gave him a glare and a sharp, "Now!"

Harry inched his way out and stood up, looking wary at this new side of Snape. _'I'm sorry. Please don't send me back!' _ The green eyes were pleading, but somehow resigned to whatever fate awaited.

Snape felt irritated with himself for causing that expression, but he knew that Harry would have to get used to seeing him at his worst without becoming petrified of being punished. "Harry, you do not have to worry about that every time I raise my voice. No matter what, I'll not send you anywhere where you will not be safe."

Harry stared up at him for a few more moments before asking, _'Can we get fish and chips?'_

Snape nodded. Children certainly changed their moods rapidly. Harry smiled happily as they walked out of the building and down the street. They quickly found a small place that sold what Harry wanted and they sat down on a park bench to eat. Harry watched some children playing on the slide and swings, his expression wistful. When he finished his food, he looked at Snape.

'_Can I play? Just for a few minutes?'_

Snape regarded him closely. "Didn't your aunt and uncle let you play?"

'_They sent me to the park with Dudley and his friends, but he always made me be the one they buried in the dirt. Sometimes they made me ride the merry-go-round until I was sick, and Aunt Petunia would yell about my clothes.' _He pleaded,_ 'But Dudley isn't here, and I could swing by myself without anyone pushing me off.'_

Snape gave him a nod, unable to speak around the lump in his throat. Harry ran to the swings and sat down. Pumping his legs, he was quickly swinging in a great arc. Snape thought how odd it looked to see the rapture on his face, like laughter should be spilling out, and yet he was silent. In his mind, Snape heard the child, _'I'm flying! Look how high I'm going! I can touch the clouds!' _Snape felt a pang that Harry didn't remember what he had loved best about magic; flying, and Quidditch.

He hated the disappointed expression on Harry's face when it was time to go. By promising that they would stop back by the park after school, Snape was able to get him to come along. He had thought that being out and around all the people as they ate and Harry played would help him to be more comfortable in the classroom. But it seemed that the close proximity of the students bothered him, and he disappeared under the desk with his books as soon as they began filing into the room.

During the afternoon, the students worked on their assigned experiments, Snape in constant motion to supervise their actions. When Tonks strolled in, he was surprised. She walked casually around the room, stopping briefly beside William. He studiously ignored her, but she could see the slight tremor in his hands. She walked to the back of the room stopping beside the desk, where Snape joined her. She looked at him in question, mouthing, "Harry?"

He inclined his head towards the desk and she frowned, then bent over to peer underneath. Harry looked out at her.

"Wotcher, Harry," she said softly. He just stared. She smiled and he bent back over the book in his lap.

Tonks looked at Snape. "No change, I see."

"No." He regarded her for a moment. "Did you have a purpose for coming, other than checking on Harry?'

"Actually, I have a message from a friend. He thought this would be the best way to contact you." She handed him a rolled up piece of parchment. Snape took a look around the room and then unrolled it.

If it would not distress Harry, a chat this evening would be welcome. I'll bring dinner.

A.D.

Snape rerolled the parchment and nodded to Tonks. "You may tell him that I will make first contact so as not to alarm Harry with his sudden appearance."

She glanced at the desk. "Is there anything I can do? He doesn't recognize me, does he?"

"No. He remembers only the Dursleys."

"Well, I suppose it's good that he doesn't remember you from before, then." At Snape's frown, she added, "You have to admit, it's strange that he trusts you of all people, Snape."

"The circumstances are complicated, as I am sure Dumbledore told you. As strange as it may be, he does trust me. I have found myself changed by it as well."

"Yes. You're much mellower. I'd have never believed it if I hadn't seen it myself."

Snape glared at her darkly. "You may leave now."

She grinned. "Not changed overly much." Then she bent back down to see Harry. "See you later, Harry."

He looked up at her through his lashes, the only indication that he had heard her.

After Tonks left, Harry peered out from under the desk at Snape. Snape raised an eyebrow in question. _'She's nice. Do I know her?'_

'_Yes. She has been a good friend to you. Her name is Tonks.'_

'_That's a funny name.'_

'_It's her last name. Her first name is Nymphadora.'_

'_Ugh. Tonks is better.'_

'_She thinks so, too.'_

Harry resumed his reading and Snape resumed his survey of the class as they finished their work.

Harry would not come out from under the desk until all the students had gone. He brought up all the books and laid them in a neat stack on the desk. Snape saw his hand go to his pocket, and for a hopeful moment he thought he was reaching for his wand. Glumly, he saw that he had pulled out the tiny stuffed deer. The wand was still in the trunk at the flat. Snape gathered the papers that he would work on in the evening and then steered Harry out the door.

They walked by the park, and as promised, Snape let Harry play on the playground for awhile. The other children looked at him curiously; he wasn't their age, they could tell that. But he seemed to like all the same things they did. They soon engaged him in a game of chase. Harry never made a sound, but they knew by his expression that he was enjoying being included in their game. A woman walked over to sit beside Snape on the park bench.

"Is that your son?" she asked, watching Harry.

"My nephew." Snape acknowledged simply.

"He's big for his age, isn't he?" Snape could see that she was wondering what a kid Harry's size was doing on the playground.

He knew he needed to give an explanation so that she wouldn't think Harry was some sort of bully out to take advantage of smaller children. "Harry is only seven in his mind."

The woman looked sympathetic. "I see. He's mentally disabled."

Snape shook his head. "No. It's more of an emotional disability. We hope that he will recover soon. This seems to be something he enjoys, so perhaps the play will be beneficial."

"He's not dangerous, is he?" she asked in sudden concern.

"I can assure you that he is quite gentle."

They watched the children play with Harry. Snape was grateful that the woman didn't ask more questions about how Harry became emotionally disabled. When at last she called her son to stop playing and come along, Snape used the opportunity to get Harry to stop playing too. Harry was disappointed, but he actually waved goodbye when they little boy called it to him.

He walked happily along as they made their way to the flat. _'Did you see me run? I'm fast. I have a new friend now. His name is Billy.'_

'_Did you tell him your name?'_

'_I tried, but he couldn't hear me. Hey, can we come back tomorrow? He's coming back tomorrow.'_

'_We'll see. It's time to get back to our flat, now. We'll be having a visitor –'_

He realized that Harry had stopped and he turned to look at him. His face was pale and he was desperately digging in his pockets. Snape frowned.

'_Harry, what's wrong?'_

'_He's gone! I can't find him!'_

With a start, Snape realized that Harry was referring to the stuffed toy. Before he could say anything else, Harry had turned and begun to run back toward the park. Snape followed closely, calling out loud, "Harry, stop! We'll find it! Stop running!"

Harry was coming up on the busy street that had to be crossed to get to the park. He didn't show any sign of slowing. Snape reached for his wand and then cursed under his breath. There were too many Muggles. He knew he couldn't catch him. His voice thundered as he yelled furiously, "Potter, you stop right NOW!"

In front of him Harry skidded to a stop and whirled around. His frantic eyes scanned his surroundings, looking for the owner of the loud commanding voice. Snape caught up to him and grabbed him by the shoulders. "NEVER, run from me again! You might have been seriously injured if you ran into the street!" Snape felt Harry shaking under his tight grip. Cars whizzed by only feet away from where they stood. His own heart dropped as he instantly pictured in his mind the Daily Prophet headline: The Boy Who Lived – Killed By a Muggle Taxi.

Harry was looking up at him, eyes filling with tears. _'I just wanted to find Prongs.'_

Snape drew him into an embrace, to calm them both. _'We'll find him. Prongs, did you say? Why did you name him that?'_

Harry sniffed. _'Don't know. It's a good name.'_

'_Yes it is.' _He pulled back to look at Harry. _'Let's go find him.'_

They crossed the street at the light and walked to the playground. Harry began to run all around, looking on the ground, on the slide, under the swings. The park was getting dark, empty of people now; everyone going home to dinner. Snape saw that they would never find the toy. It was too small and there was too much ground to cover. In its miniature state, it could be under anything, dirt, leaves. It might have been picked up by another child. Harry was becoming more distraught by the second.

Snape hurried over to him and took him by the shoulders. "Harry. We can't find him like this. Stand here beside me. We'll find it another way."

Harry looked at him frantically, '_Please, please, please.'_

Snape spoke quietly, "Help me look all around. Are all the people gone?"

Harry did as Snape said. _'No one is here.'_

'_Alright. Keep a sharp eye out.'_ He drew his wand, keeping it close to his side in case a Muggle happened by. _'I'll put him back to his normal size. He'll be easier to see. Watch now.'_

Harry had given a worried look at the wand, but at Snape's words he relaxed. Snape muttered the spell to reverse the toy from its pocket size. Harry was watching the grounds carefully. When the stuffed toy appeared under the slide, he tore away from Snape and ran to scoop it up. Snape waited as he walked back. In his mind he could hear Harry talking to the toy as he held it tightly to his chest. _'See, Prongs? I told you I wouldn't ever leave you. I'm your friend and friends don't leave friends who are sad. Don't be sad anymore.'_

Snape hated feeling emotional.


	29. Chapter 30

_A/N: I am taking this opportunity to say some thank you's and make some explanations…First of all, I have to acknowledge all my readers and reviewers! I have endeavored to acknowledge everyone in personal replies, so if I missed anybody please forgive me! Thanks go to: KimSpiritTalks, islington bus no. 199, notwritten, SeverusSnapePotionsMaster13, Tricota, Padawan Jan-AQ, Dark Irony, HPMadHarryandGinny4Ever. Dalou28, septentrion, LK Parks, AnnF, desartratt, WannaBArtist, duj, illachi, xxdrkanglsxx, Meshpets, Barb8, PrinadeNooijer, TEC, Serpent91, Mirlanthiriel, Destiny'sxCries, blueoctober, RandomRecorders, whiteoaks, allwaysandforever, Summer-Sunrise, Elruwen the Blessed, BrightFeather, BlackDragonontheRocks, Cindy Snowflake, Hodemi, hpfananita, kizunakat, Lydia2, Kateri1. I love you all and I really, really appreciate that you took the time to tell mewhat you thought, or asked question! _

_Next, I must acknowledge my wonderful beta, logicalquirk! Thanks to her, you will now get the rest of this fic in record time! She has agreed to try and help me get it completely posted asap so that I can enter it in a fanfic contest! Isn't she generous?? Yes!! Send her chocolates!_

_Now, on to this chapter…including this one, there are 13 to go!_

**Chapter 30: Dumbledore**

Harry stopped short upon entering the flat. The old man called Dumbledore was sitting on the sofa, a blazing fire in the fireplace. Snape frowned. "I thought my message was that I would contact you."

"Ah, the message implied that if I could arrive without alarming Harry it would be best. So I came early. I hope you don't mind."

"It wouldn't matter if it did, would it? You always do what you want, when you want."

Blue eyes sparkled above quirking lips. "As I always say, it's a privilege that comes with age." He looked at Harry and smiled, "Good evening, Harry. How was it at the Muggle school?" He waited expectantly for an answer. Green eyes met his, and for a brief moment he caught a vision of himself as Harry saw him, old and scary. He put his hands behind his back and walked casually away, so as not to appear threatening. "I may be old, but I'm really not a frightful man. I hope you'll find that you can learn to trust me as you do Severus."

Harry looked at Snape. _'Why does everyone want me to trust them?'_

Snape answered aloud so Dumbledore would get at least half of the conversation. "Everyone would like to be your friend. Before you were hurt, you trusted this man. He is a great friend to many people."

'_He's still old and scary. Why is his hair so long and why is his skin so wrinkled?'_

"Wizards live longer than Muggles. Professor Dumbledore has lived long enough to be very wrinkled, and grow his hair very long."

'_He's a wizard too, then? Does he do tricks like you do?'_

"The magic we can do is not trickery. Magic tricks are things Muggles do for entertainment. For us, it's a way of life."

'_Why is he here?'_

"Actually, I do not know why he is here." Snape turned questioning eyes on Dumbledore. "Why are you here?"

Dumbledore smiled. "I believe that we might talk better after our stomachs are filled. Dobby prepared a special treat for Harry; his favorite things from the tables at Hogwarts." Waving a hand at the table, a variety of platters appeared, loaded with more food than Harry had ever seen.

Harry raised astonished eyes to stare at Dumbledore and then Snape. _'Who is all this for?'_

"It's for you. From Dobby." Snape watched to see any hint of recognition. Harry shook his head. He stood there, turning the stuffed deer around and around in is hands. Looking from the table to the men, he finally fled to the bedroom.

Snape looked at Dumbledore. "It's too soon to push him. Everything is confusing. He thinks like a child, not the Boy Who Lived. He doesn't know any of that."

Dumbledore looked sad. "I had hoped that he would recover his senses quickly, as he spent time with you."

"It seems that this is not an injury that can be healed so easily, even with the link we share."

"Well, perhaps he will continue to get better after he goes back."

Snape's face grew ugly and dangerous. Striding to the bedroom door, he closed it. Drawing his wand, he warded it, preventing any sound from passing through. He spat, "Harry will not go back there."

"Petunia is back in residence and for the blood protection it would be best."

Snape felt all the fury he had held back rising up; needing to be unleashed. Dumbledore was a handy target. "I will not see him returned to that house. Their treatment of him was worse than what a Death Eater could have dreamt up."

He paced the floor, each turn bringing him to glare at Dumbledore as he passed. "Just in the little time I've had him, I've learned only a portion of the horrors he faced with those people. They told him he was a freak, over and over. When he did accidental magic, he was severely punished, by beatings, starvation, as they _squashed_ the magic out of him. He never had food that was not cast off like table scraps to a dog. He was never allowed to touch books because his fingers might soil them." He looked at Dumbledore in astonishment. "He had never had a new toy until last night. In the park today, he felt for the first time, a child's joy on the swings. He was flying in his imagination, touching the clouds. Whenever he went to the park with his cousin, he was abused by him as well."

Turning his back to the older man, he said, "I am not at all certain that physical and emotional abuse were all that Dursley did. There may have been even worse." He paced the floor again for a while. Then, "I do not care what blood protection you feel Petunia might give him, the damage she had a hand in inflicting far outweighs any benefit to his being with her. I will not allow him to go back to that. You will see me in Azkaban before that happens."

Dumbledore looked haggard after the onslaught. "You know I'll not see you go to Azkaban."

"Yes, but if I murder Dursley, there won't be an alternative. If you send Harry back to live with him, that's what I'll do. I'll have to. I made a vow to Lily's memory that I would protect the child he is again. This time he will not be made to suffer for the damn blood protection." He looked at Dumbledore, determination setting his jaw.

Dumbledore shook his head sadly. "You are not his legal guardian. I'm afraid we are bound by those parameters both here and in our world."

Snape clenched his fists. "You would let him be damaged even more, in the name of legalities? For Merlin's sake, old man, the boy cowers at every move anyone makes towards him. He will not survive being placed back there. And then where will that put us in the fight against the Dark Lord? He cannot save us all if he is dead, or if he remains a child in his mind. I cannot let him go back. If his legal ties with them need to be severed, then make it happen. I know bloody well you can do that."

Dumbledore considered him in silence. In the quiet, Snape suddenly felt Harry, felt his panic. '_Severus, I can't open the door! Where are you?'_

He went to the bedroom door, removing the silencing wards. When he opened it, Harry stood there, a look of alarm on his face. Snape reached out a hand. "Harry, I'm sorry. We were having a private talk. I didn't mean to lock you in."

Harry took a tentative step out and towards the table. _'Can I have just a little to eat? I promise not to spill, or take too much.'_

Snape glared at Dumbledore as he answered, "You may eat what you wish and as much as you wish. If you spill, we will simply clean it up."

Harry walked slowly to the table, surveying the mountains of food there. He hardly knew where to start; there was too much to choose from. _'Who is Dobby? You said he made all this?'_

"Dobby is a house elf." Snape ignored the look of disbelief. "He is quite loyal to you. In fact, if you have any needs, you might try calling him. He would appear right away."

'_Is he like Santa's elves?'_ Harry asked in wonder. _'Santa always gave me Dudley's old toys, so Dudley would have room for all the new ones. I don't get to ask Santa for toys because I'm a no good freak. Does Dobby make toys?'_

Snape sighed, suppressing the new anger at Harry's innocent comments. "Dobby is not one of Santa's elves. He is a Hogwarts house elf. He does chores around the school." He gave Dumbledore a withering look as he continued, "You are not a freak, and you are a very good boy. I suppose that Dobby could make toys if he was asked nicely, when Christmas comes."

Harry picked up a plate and began to choose from the foods offered. There was no room at the table to sit when he looked around. Snape waved a hand, conjuring a small table in the living room. He levitated three chairs over to sit around it. He was pleased to see that Harry didn't pause in fear when he saw this bit of magic being done. After Harry sat down, the men filled their own plates and joined him at the new table. As they ate, they watched Harry as he took small bites of everything, his face content. When he finished, he stood and carried his plate to the sink. He noticed that Snape and Dumbledore were finished and he took their plates. In the kitchen, he began to wash the dishes, scrubbing and rinsing.

With a hard look at Dumbledore, Snape asked, "Harry, what are you doing?" He knew the old wizard was seeing and hearing all that he needed to convince him that Harry should not be returned to the Dursleys.

'_My jobs. If I do my jobs and don't break anything, I won't have to stay in the cupboard. Maybe.'_

Standing up, Snape went to the sink. "You do not have jobs that need doing. We can clear this away easily. We do not have a cupboard here, and even if we did, it would not be a place for a boy."

'_Will you clean it with magic?'_

"Yes. Do you want to do it? I'll show you how if you'll get your wand from the trunk."

Harry shook his head. _'I'm not magic. I can't do it.'_

Snape waved his own wand and the dirty dishes, along with the food, disappeared. Harry jumped a little bit, looking around for them. Not seeing them, he sighed. '_Where did they go?'_

Snape rolled his eyes. He had never really thought about where things went when they were made to vanish. "They are just gone. You do not have to worry about them any longer."

Remembering that he had been in serious discussion with Dumbledore before Harry had come out of the bedroom, he faced the older man. "I will assume that we have said what needed to be said about the matter in front of us. Is there anything else you wished to discuss?"

Dumbledore gave him a look that told Snape he had in fact seen and heard enough, but what he would be able to do about it was in question. "How about a game of chess? Perhaps Harry would like to learn."

Harry watched as they set up a game of Wizards Chess on the small table. After watching at their sides for a bit, he went to the bedroom and retrieved the stuffed deer. Snape saw Dumbledore look at it in question and he answered, "That's Prongs; Harry's first new toy."

Dumbledore looked surprised. "You told him about James?"

"No. Harry chose the name." Harry was looking at him then. "He says it's a good name. Tell us why you chose that name, Harry."

Harry shrugged. _'I heard it somewhere. See? His antlers are like prongs,'_ he explained as he wiggled the soft extensions on top of the toys head.

Snape nodded. "Yes, I see that. Very smart of you to think of it."

Harry looked pleased at the praise. Dumbledore was able to beat Snape quickly, ending the game. Snape groused, "You take advantage of my distraction over the boy."

Dumbledore stood. "I would never beat you by distracting you. The one with superior strategy wins."

Snape narrowed his eyes. "Concerning the matter we were discussing earlier, I believe your strategy is in error. I am serious about what I said. I will not permit it."

"I understand how you feel."

"Do you? I think not. It is far too deep for my own understanding at the moment. I hate the emotions I have been forced to feel the last few days. I hate the way I feel I must act on someone else's behalf. I hate feeling compelled to be nice. And yet, I find myself drawn to him, wanting to protect him; to care for the child he has become. I hate feeling incompetent."

Harry stood very still at this exchange. Snape looked at him as he asked, _'You hate me?'_

Snape opened his arms and Harry hesitantly came into them. As Snape wrapped strong arms around the thin shoulders, he whispered, "No Harry. I do not hate you. Never think that again." Harry slowly wrapped his own arms around Snape and Snape continued, "I haven't had someone like you to care for before, so it's very strange for me. I hate not knowing what to do to help you. I hate being nice, because I'm not known to be a nice person, and it spoils my image. But I do not hate you."

Dumbledore had quietly watched all this. Nodding to himself, he spoke, "I will be returning to Hogwarts. Do you wish to explain Floo Travel to him first?"

Snape drew back from Harry. "Professor Dumbledore is leaving now. Much of the time, wizards travel from place to place by means other than walking. He will be leaving by Floo. That means you will see him walk into the fireplace and disappear. The fire will not burn him." He gave a nod to Dumbledore, who took a handful of Floo Powder and threw it into the flames. With one last smile to Harry, he stepped into the fire and vanished with a loud whoosh of flame. Harry leaned into Snape, staring in terror. Snape pulled him against his side. "You can do it too, you know. Would you like to?"

Harry shook his head quickly. Snape gave him a reassuring squeeze. Vanishing the chess set, he went to get the papers he had brought home to grade. He settled on the sofa, and Harry curled up against him. He was so still that after awhile, Snape thought he had gone to sleep. When he looked at him he saw that Harry was reading the test papers as he graded them. Curious, he asked, "Can you understand what you are reading here?"

Harry nodded. He pointed to an equation. _'That one is wrong.'_ Pointing to several others, he added, _'And that one, that one, and that one.'_

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Very good. How do you know it's wrong?"

'_I read the big book on your desk this afternoon.'_ At Snape's surprised expression, he added, _'It was different than the stories, but I liked how it was …'_ He frowned, at a loss for explanation.

Snape supplied, "It's orderly and exact."

Harry smiled brightly. _' Yes. Everything happens in order.'_

Snape gave him a crooked smile, "You learn quickly, Harry." He returned his attention to the papers and finished grading them with Harry leaning against his shoulder, watching.

He was asleep when the last one was completed. Snape stood up, gently letting Harry slide down to lie on the sofa. Waving his wand, he transformed it into Harry's bed. After lowering the lights and making sure that Prongs was securely in Harry's arms, he went to his own bed.

He couldn't help but recall the argument with Dumbledore. He really hoped the old wizard would not insist that he have his way in sending Harry back to the Dursleys. As much as Snape respected and loved him, he would have to go against him on this. His eyes closed as he was remembering Harry say the words to Prongs that he had spoken to him: friends do not leave friends who are sad …

Harry made a sort of nest under the desk the next day. When they arrived, the room was still empty of students and Snape conjured a square of carpeting for Harry to sit on. Harry took the desk lamp and brought it down to the floor. Opening the drawer, he was able to extend the depth of his little cave by another foot. Once he was in place behind the glare of the lamp, it was almost impossible to see him. Snape saw that he took another one of the chemistry texts along with the books borrowed from Smithe. He couldn't help but feel pride that the boy was so adept at the subject, even though he had had nothing to do with it. Harry could obviously learn complex subjects, even in the regressed state in which he lived. That alone was enough to pin hope to. A hope that Harry would come back.

Snape passed out the test papers, and as he expected, William was most displeased with his score.

"You graded me lower than everyone else! You wanted me to fail it!"

"You did that on your own, Mr. Archer. You were scored by the same criteria as everyone else," he intoned levelly.

William was standing beside his table, hands clenched into fists. Before he could say anything else, Wimberly walked into the room. He saw the confrontational pose of the boy and stepped back towards the door. Snape ignored him, keeping his eyes on William. He continued to speak in a low voice, "You have the second half of the summer term to prove yourself. With hard work, you could still manage to pass. But you must wish to do it. I do not coddle students. If you do not want the summer to have been a waste of your time, you will find it in yourself to learn the material."

The room was totally silent as everyone waited. Snape could feel Harry tensing under the desk. _'That boy is bad. He's very mad at you. He wants to hurt you.'_

Snape kept the surprise from showing on his face. How did Harry know that? Was he feeling the boy's emotions, or was he actually capturing thoughts without even looking at his eyes to use Legilimency on him? Perhaps he was just guessing, based on the tone of voice. Snape answered him through the link. _'I know he's angry. I want you to stay where you are.'_

William glared at Snape for a long time, apparently thinking what he should do. Snape allowed him to have the time. He could see the anger in his eyes and in the way the jaw was tightened. His friends were even avoiding looking at him. Finally, he sat heavily back down on the stool. Snape considered the matter closed and turned to Wimberly.

"Is there something you needed, Headmaster?"

Wimberly looked back and forth between Snape and William. Stepping closer to Snape, he whispered, "You're going to let him stay after the way he spoke to you?"

Snape gave him a measuring look. "I believe it is my choice to do so."

Wimberly flushed slightly. "Of course it's your choice. I wouldn't have him if the choice was mine."

"Then he is most fortunate that it is not your choice." He looked meaningfully at William as he said this, knowing the boy heard every word.

"I came, as promised, to make sure that your nephew is not a distraction to your teaching. Where is he today?"

"He is under my desk," Snape answered simply.

Wimberly's mouth opened and he frowned, as if not believing what Snape said. "What on earth is he doing there?"

"That is where he feels safe for the time we are here. Do you have further questions, or may I begin my class?" Snape asked, his sarcasm barely masked.

Wimberly threw a glare at the desk, where the lamplight glowed from underneath, and then a glare at Snape, before turning on his heel and leaving. Snape turned to the class.

"We will begin our next topic, still chemistry, but a different aspect …"

The rest of the morning passed in lecture and discussion, Snape walking the room like a drill sergeant, and the students madly taking notes. Lunchtime had never been so welcome.

When they students had gone, Snape bent down over the kneehole in the desk. "Shall we take a lunch to the park again?"

'_Yes, please. Maybe my friend will be there._'

Harry hurried to get out and stand up. "Remember that we can only stay a little while, before getting back here for the afternoon."

They bought a quick meal from a hot dog vendor, Snape grimacing in disgust. "I suppose the messiness is the attraction to this atrocity? It certainly isn't the civilized way one eats it, or the way it looks."

Harry ate his with gusto, mustard dripping down his chin. Snape handed him a paper napkin and Harry wiped his mouth before running to the swings.

Snape was leaning back on the bench, his eyes closed as he listened to Harry laughing with joy in his head, when he felt the bench move. Cracking open an eye, he saw Tonks. She was watching Harry.

After a few moments, she asked, "Do you know what he's feeling?"

"Yes." Snape opened his eyes completely. "He is full of delight at the moment. It is pure and complete." Looking over at Tonks, he added, "It is like a wild animal that has been caged, and has suddenly found freedom."

She looked at him in surprise, "Snape, you amaze me lately. I've never heard you say anything that didn't reek of darkness, depression, and doom."

He sneered, "Never fear; that's all still there. Harry has only managed to subdue it for now."

"He does look happy, doesn't he?" she commented, her eyes back on Harry. He was swinging as high as he could, his eyes closed, a huge grin on his face. Tonks cleared her throat.

Snape swiveled his head towards her. "I take it that this is not a visit to watch Harry play."

"No. I'm here to take the class for you. There's to be a custody hearing this afternoon in a Muggle court."

Snape stared at her. His jaw was clenched. "That was certainly quick of them."

She nodded. "It seems that Dursley was able to tell his boss that it was Harry's fault that he's missed so much work. He told them he was forced to deal with a wild and half-crazed nephew and that all the damage to the house was caused by Harry. Petunia and Dudley are backing him. They want their husband and father back, even if he's a drunken, abusive lout."

"Why do they even care about having custody of Harry?" Snape. said scathingly.

"It also seems that friends and work acquaintances are asking them about where Harry is, and what will happen to him. They are afraid of looking bad if they don't step back up and take charge of him. They don't want to be seen shirking their familial duty."

"What about the police report? Surely that proves that Harry was on the receiving end of the abuse; that Dursley was the one who did all the damage."

Tonks looked at him, biting her lip. "I know this will make you furious, but you have to remember that we altered memories that day. We did what we had to do to get Harry out. Once Dursley was able to give his own statement, the Muggle police had no recollection of Harry's original condition when they had arrived at the house."

Snape did look furious. He thought that steam might be coming out his ears; he was so furious. Standing up, he cursed under his breath. Harry was slowing the swing, his eyes on Snape. They were full of anxiety. Snape cleared his mind, blocking the angry thoughts Harry was picking up on. Tonks stood up, too, and they began to walk the perimeter of the park.

Harry's friend was back and he ran to join him on the slide. Billy's mother waved from her bench and Snape gave her an incline of his head. Tonks broke the silence.

"I hate it too. I wish we had done things differently the other day." She was watching Harry climb up the slide again. "Do you think he will get worse if he goes back?"

"I know he will. He has no sense of self-protection. He is a child. He won't be able to help himself." He walked slowly, deep in thought. "I cannot let them have him."


	30. Chapter 31

Chapter 31: Surrendering Harry

The Family Court was crowded when Snape arrived. It looked like there were many family issues which required the legal system's assistance to work out. Snape went to a desk where a woman sat. She reminded him strongly of Madam Pince. He told her he was there for a custody hearing and she handed him a clipboard with a form to fill out. He found an empty seat and began to write in the requested information. Another chair suddenly appeared beside him, a gray-haired man with a briefcase sitting in it. Snape hid his surprise that a wizard would just show up in such a place.

The wizard chuckled. "Don't worry, no one ever notices it. There's too much other drama going on here." He plucked the clipboard out of Snape's hands and it vanished. "I've already taken care of that, Professor Snape."

Now Snape did look surprised. The man stuck out a hand in greeting, "Gerard Devane, barrister for the magical who find themselves entangled in the Muggle."

Snape gave the hand a shake. "I hope you have a plan to keep Mr. Potter away from those people."

"Well, let's just say that between Dumbledore and myself, I believe we will be able to prevent him from permanent placement with the Dursleys. You must trust me, though. Whatever I say in there, you cannot go against it." His light brown eyes were almost golden as he looked sternly at Snape.

Snape glared in return. "I do not want him being placed with them at all, however impermanent."

"There may be a brief period in which he will be in their custody. But I told you, you must trust me. It will not be permanent."

Snape growled, "I hope you are a competent Criminal lawyer. I will need one if one hair of his head is harmed while they have him."

"Now, now, Professor." He ignored the threatening look Snape was giving him and looked at his watch. "It's time for the hearing. Let's go."

He jumped up and led the way as they threaded themselves through the crowd. The court turned out to be a small conference room where a judge sat at one end of a long table and a recording secretary at the other end. Snape and Devane sat on one long side. Devane handed the secretary some papers and she entered the information into a computer that was in front of her.

A few moments later, the Dursleys entered the room with their barrister. Vernon Dursley immediately began ranting. "What's he doing here? This is a family hearing. He's not family at all. He came into my home uninvited –" Their barrister whispered urgently in his ear and Dursley huffed a bit before settling his bulk into a chair opposite Snape. His beady eyes glared across the table, into black eyes that glittered so dangerously that he was forced to look away. The barrister handed their paperwork to the secretary. She entered their information, and after another few minutes, several new sheets of paper came out of the printer on a small table behind her. She got up and came around to the other end of the table, handing them to the judge. He sat back in his chair, reading them carefully.

Snape sat silent, waiting. He watched Dursley. Dursley wouldn't meet his eye, but he made his feelings known by his posture and the muttered comments he made to Petunia and Dudley.

The judge finished his reading and laid the papers out before him on the table. He looked over his glasses at the people seated to either side of him.

"We are here to determine the custodial issues concerning one Harry Potter. According to these documents, he is the nephew of Vernon and Petunia Dursley." He waited for the barrister to acknowledge this. "He has been in your care how long?" he asked them.

The barrister sat up. "The boy was left with my client when his parents were killed in a car crash. He was one year old. They have cared for him for 14 years."

The judge nodded, glancing at the papers. "Recent events indicate that there might be a problem in the home; I believe the police were summoned? I would like to hear about that."

The barrister laid a restraining hand on Dursley's arm as he started to speak. Dursley closed his mouth with a snap, glaring at the table.

The barrister cleared his throat. "My client is a hard-working family man. He is a respectable man with a position to uphold. Young Potter is boarded during the school year at St. Brutus's, a school that you no doubt are familiar with." He waited for the judge to acknowledge this. "In the summer, he is home, and tensions seem to run high. He makes little effort to get along with his guardians and is never appreciative of their good will towards him."

Snape was drawing himself up in his chair, leaning closer and closer to the table in disbelief as the man talked. Devane laid a hand on his arm and Snape stiffened. Devane whispered in his ear, "They are allowed to have their say, no matter what it is. We will have our turn."

The other barrister was still speaking. "… and then Mr. Potter lost control of his already violent temper and proceeded to trash the house. When the police arrived, they found my client unconscious. It is still unclear how he came to be in that state. It is known that this man across from us was in the house when the police arrived." He sat back, apparently finished.

The judge made several notations on his set of papers. Then he looked over at Devane. "This indicates that your client has an interest in Mr. Potter. What would that be?"

Devane stood up, "My client is a Professor at the boy's school. He believes that the boy has qualities that make him salvageable. In his profession, he sees many boys who fall through the cracks of society and he wishes to keep that from happening in this case."

"Is he petitioning for guardianship?" the judge asked.

"Yes, he desires to take the boy into his own care."

The judge frowned. "What were you doing at the Dursley's home on the day in question, Mr. Snape?"

Snape glanced at Devane before speaking. "I had not heard from Mr. Potter in several days. He is usually good about keeping in contact during breaks from school. I decided to go to the home and check on him."

The judge was frowning as he turned a piece of paper over in his hands. "The police report seems to be incomplete here. Perhaps you could tell me what you found when you got there."

Snape glared across the table at Dursley. "I found this man, in an inebriated state. I found the boy locked in a small closet, unconscious."

"The judge looked at the Dursleys with surprise. "Locked in a closet?"

The barrister tried to speak but the judge held up a hand. "I'd like to hear this from Mr. Dursley, if you don't mind."

Dursley reddened, looking at the barrister and his wife before beginning to talk. "The boy is a strange one, judge. He gets these notions into his head, and the only thing for it is to keep him locked up so he won't hurt anyone."

"The inebriated state Mr. Snape described; what do you have to say about that?"

"I was upset that things had gone so far. I wouldn't even say I was intoxicated at all. A few drinks to calm my nerves isn't a crime, is it?"

Snape stood up, heedless of Devane's hand pulling him back. Shaking him off, he growled, 'The boy was battered into unconsciousness. You, on the other hand, had not a mark on you. You reeked of alcohol. There were reports of your ranting and yelling from neighbors."

"Sit down at once, Mr. Snape," the judge snapped sharply, "or you will be removed from this room." He glared at Snape until he sat back down in the chair.

Devane glared at him, too, whispering again, "It will do no good to lose your temper. If you wish to help him, we have to remain calm."

The judge wrote some more notes. Then he sat back and seemed lost in thought for a while as he considered the information he had before him. Finally, he spoke. His voice was quiet, but filled with authority. "Deciding custodial issues is never easy. As you can all see, emotions are high all around. In this case, I find that there is not enough evidence indicating a lack of concern on the part of the boy's current guardians. I hear there were reports from neighbors, but copies of those are not here. I hear that the boy was battered, but there are no medical reports of that here either." He looked around the table. "I will allow three days during which any further evidence may be submitted that might support the request for a change in guardianship. During that time, I see no reason why Mr. Potter may not be returned to his legal guardians. He is to be remanded to their custody immediately." He stood up and was out the door before anyone could say anything.

Snape sat there, disbelief causing him to be rendered speechless. The Dursleys stood up; Dudley pouting. "This means he gets my other room back, doesn't it?"

Petunia patted his shoulder consolingly. "There, there, Daddy will make it come out right, won't you, Vernon?"

Vernon was muttering, "Damn straight, it will come out right this time."

They were walking out the door when, in a blur of black, Snape was up and in Dursley's face. His voice was almost a whisper, but his tone was anything but soft. "If you so much as look at Harry with any intent to hurt him, I will see you dead. Thanks to you he has not spoken since the other day. You will not cause him any further trauma."

Dursley backed away. "You have some nerve, threatening me here –"

'It's not a threat, Dursley. I swear that you will regret ever crossing me if Harry is hurt any more."

With that, Snape stormed out of the room and out of the building. Devane hurried to catch up. "Snape! Wait!"

Snape whirled about so quickly that Devane almost ran into him. His expression was thunderous. "What good did you do? Was that the plan? Send Harry back so they can finish the job?"

"Listen to me. We can get what the judge wants, now that we know what he needs to prove the Dursley's are not the best choice of guardian. It's only three days."

Before Snape could respond to that, the secretary came running after them. With an apologetic look, she handed Devane a slip of paper. He read it and sighed, "You are to have the boy back to them by five o'clock today."

Snape felt a dark rage settle over him. "What am I to tell him? How can I tell him he has to go back? I promised I would not let that happen."

"You should not have promised him something like that. There was no way for you to guarantee it."

"But there is a way." Snape's eyes burned into the barrister.

Devane shook his head, "In matters such as these, we must adhere as closely as possible to Muggle law. It's a Muggle custody issue. They are blood relatives and you are not. We must provide the proof the judge needs. We can use Aurors to get it, and Magical Law Enforcement can help ensure that it is perceived as we want it to be. But we must go through these channels. This is how we must respond in cases like this. Magic cannot be used against Muggles."

Snape glared at him defiantly, trying to think of anything that could be said to change the words the man had said. Then he felt Harry at the edges of his thoughts.

'_What's wrong? Was I bad? Why are you mad at me?'_

Snape took some deep calming breaths, closing his eyes. He knew that this would be devastating for Harry. He had to try to make it as easy as possible. _'I am not angry with you. I am coming back now and we will talk.'_

'_You feel mad. What happened?'_

'_I'll be there soon. Don't worry.'_ Even as he thought it, he felt guilty. There was plenty to worry about. To Devane, he said, "Just make sure it's done as quickly as possible. I'm sure Dumbledore told you the extent of the damage that was done. Harry won't be able to fight back as he is now."

"I do understand." He nodded. "There are people gathering what we need even as we speak. Three days is an outside estimate. If we can get the information to the judge, I will push for a quicker decision."

Snape knew that was as good as it would get. He turned and stalked quickly down the street, needing to release some of the anger inside. By the time he had walked the distance back to the school, he only felt a little better.

In the classroom, Tonks was holding a discussion on the chapter they had read in the morning. She looked at Snape, and at the expression on his face, hers fell. He motioned to her to step outside. After instructing the class to continue reading, she followed him. He saw from the glow of lamplight that Harry was back underneath the desk.

Tonks looked up at Snape. "He has to go back?" At his nod, she bent her head, closing her eyes. "I'm sorry. If we hadn't –"

"If you hadn't, we wouldn't have got him out as fast." He peered down his nose at her when she looked up again. "You know what he's like now. You know that he cannot stay there. Whatever you Aurors are to do, do it well and do it quickly."

She nodded. "What time are you taking him?"

"They said by five o'clock. I won't have him there a minute sooner."

"I'll be there. Between us, maybe we can scare Dursley enough to keep off him."

"Thank you. Normally, I would resent your assistance. But this is different. I need you to …" He looked at her, the discomfort he felt plain in his face. That alone was enough to rattle Tonks. Snape never showed his feelings. This Snape asking for her help was as foreign as anything she had ever encountered.

Reaching out, she laid a tentative hand on his arm. "Please don't ask for my help. It's too weird, seeing you all soft like this. You know that I'll do whatever it takes to help Harry. Dumbledore only explained a little about your connection with him, but I've seen how he is with you. I've seen how he is. He's not our strong, ready-to-face-danger Harry. Even though the physical damage is healed, I've seen what he's become." Her own eyes looked haunted at the knowledge. "I promise we won't let him be broken more. If it comes to it, I'll help you get him away."

Snape didn't trust himself to speak, so he settled for giving her a brief nod. Looking at his watch, he saw that it was too early for dismissal. But he knew he couldn't teach with the mood he was in. He wanted to get Harry away from here and begin preparing him. He wanted Tonks to go and start doing whatever she had to do to help get the evidence the judge needed. She seemed to understand this and she turned without another word. Walking down the hall and around the corner, she disappeared.

Snape walked back into the classroom. William was watching him curiously, instead of reading. Snape glowered until he leaned back over his book and at least pretended to be reading. He felt a dread in the pit of his stomach. With a start, he realized that he felt this same kind of dread when he knew he would be facing the Dark Lord. This came as a surprise. Certainly, Harry was not the Dark Lord, with the power to snuff out his life with a blink. Not this Harry, at least. Then he understood that this feeling of dread came from being placed in a shaky situation. Over the last few days, his bonding with Harry had reached a place inside him he had never thought to exist. He had a heart. Right now, that heart was hurting at the thought that Harry Potter would be taken back to a family who had betrayed the basic trust a child should never have to doubt. He rubbed a tired hand over his face. He dreaded betraying the trust that had grown between them.

When he thought it was late enough, he dismissed the class, giving out another reading assignment to be completed at home. He didn't want to face Harry. He didn't want to see in his green eyes the accusations of Snape's treachery. Because that was what it was, wasn't it?

Finally, he bent down to look at him there under the desk. He could see the fear in Harry. He already felt that something was going on. Holding out his hand, Snape said, "Come. Let's go to the park."

With a small smile, Harry scrambled out. Snape bought the hotdogs Harry pointed out. Every bite tasted like it grew too large in his mouth to swallow. Harry ate happily and then pointed to the ice cream stand. With ice cream dripping down his chin, he looked like the child he was inside. He looked like the child he should have been; happy and without care.

When it was no longer avoidable, Snape said, "Harry, I have something to tell you."

Harry looked at him, knowing by the tone that this was not something good. He looked towards the playground longingly. _'Can I go play?'_

"Not today. Sit down," he said when Harry jumped up to go. Deciding it was easiest to say it quickly, he blurted, "I have to take you back to your aunt and uncle."

Harry's mouth dropped open. '_I'll be good. I'm sorry, I'll be more good –'_

Snape took his chin in his hand to look into his eyes. "You _are_ good. You've done nothing wrong."

'_Then why?'_ came his desperate question.

"A judge decided. He believes it is where you belong because they are your family. But Harry, it will not be for long. When we give the judge the information he needs, he will let you come back with me."

Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out the little Prongs. He petted it for a few moments before handing it to Snape. _'He wants to stay with you now.'_

Snape pushed the toy back to him, "No, he belongs to you. Do you want him back to his regular size?"

Harry thought for a moment before shaking his head. _'If he's small, he can hide. If he can hide, maybe he won't be in trouble for being a no-good freak.'_

Snape felt his heart lurch. Harry said this with such innocence. In that house, being considered a freak was normal for him. He had been told this so often and for so long, that it was ingrained in him, the belief that he was worthless and no good. Snape also saw that Harry equated being small with being able to hide. He had endured the starvation and turned it to an advantage, a defense.

Snape stood up and held out his hand, not knowing if Harry would take it. Harry did. The thought that it might look strange for a grown man to be holding the hand of a teenage boy did not occur to Snape. Harry had become a child, and Snape just knew he had the needs of one. He would offer as much security and comfort as he could before they reached the house. Stopping at the flat, Snape put some clothes into a small bag. He didn't want to take the trunk. That made it seem as if it would be more permanent. He turned to Harry.

'We're going to Floo to Mrs. Figgs house. Do you recall knowing her?" Harry shook his head, apprehension showing about using the Floo. "She's a neighbor of your uncle. If you ever have need to, you can go to her house." He didn't actually know if this was something Dumbledore would want Harry to know, but at the moment he didn't care what Dumbledore would want. He wanted Harry to have options available.

He gathered a handful of Floo Powder and pulled Harry close to his side. "No matter what this looks like, I promise it doesn't hurt. You are a wizard and Wizards cannot be burned in the Floo Network." Throwing down the powder, he shouted for Mrs. Figg's. In a moment they stepped out onto her rug.

The old lady had tears in her eyes at their appearance. She had been told to expect them. Snape looked at her and then at Harry, telling them both, "This is a safe place for you, Harry. Like I said, if you have need, you should come here. Mrs. Figg can get help." When he looked at her, Mrs. Figg nodded in ready agreement. He continued to her, "You should know that he does not speak. Since the other day, he has no memories other than of the family down the street. He has regressed to a child-like state in his mind. Do you understand? If he comes to you, you must call for me immediately. He will not try to use his magic, because he refuses to believe in it."

To Harry, he said, "Harry, I am telling you this so you will have a way to get help. But if you try, I know you can call me yourself. Even though I am not with you physically, I'll be in your mind." He searched the green eyes for comprehension. He found only a defeated sort of resignation. Harry had closed himself off.

Snape sighed in defeat himself. Looking at his watch, he knew it was time. The Floo roared to life again and Devane stepped through, followed by Shacklebolt and Tonks.

When Snape looked at them in question, Devane said, "I have to document that you followed the directions of the judge. MLE is here to make sure no magical interference occurs during the transfer. They will also begin gathering witness reports from neighbors. We hope to subtly restore some memories so they might be used in a report against Dursley."

Snape nodded his understanding. Going to the door, he motioned to Harry to follow. Harry kept his eyes on the ground as they walked the short distance to the Dursleys. They stood on their porch, darting nervous eyes around the neighborhood. Their barrister was also present and he stepped aside to allow the entry into the house. He was looking at Harry with a frown, as if finally realizing that this undersized teenager holding a small stuffed animal could not possibly be the danger his client had made him out to be.

Dursley was rocking up and down on his toes, looking threatening. "Well? He's here now. I want everyone else to leave."

The barristers nodded and stepped back to the door. Snape knelt down in front of Harry, putting a large hand on his arm. He bent his head to look into Harry's face. When Harry finally met his eyes, Snape said quietly, both aloud and in Harry's mind, "I'll be right here," putting his other hand against Harry's face. Harry turned his face to lean into the hand, a single tear rolling down the cheek. "I'll be back for you. Even though I have to leave you for now, I will be back." He said the last loud enough for all of them to hear.

Vernon Dursley growled, 'Oh, no you won't. As of this moment, the boy belongs to me. And you, sir, are barred from coming here again."

Apologetically, the Dursley's barrister handed a paper to Devane who snapped it open. He looked at Snape. "It's a restraining order forbidding you to come within one hundred yards of this house."

Snape stood up, keeping a hand on Harry's arm. He towered over them all and he kept his composure by the barest thread. Without a word, he turned and walked out the door. The attorneys looked at each other and then followed. Shacklebolt and Tonks waited on the lawn. The front door slammed behind them with an explosive crack. As they all walked away, they could hear Vernon Dursley screaming obscenities at Harry. Snape stopped and would have gone back if Tonks and Shacklebolt had not each grabbed one of his arms and propelled him to keep going. He shook them off roughly and strode on to Mrs. Figg's. The Muggle barrister got into his car, hesitating as they continued to hear the verbal abuse being heaped upon the child they left inside. Shaking his head, he climbed behind the wheel and drove away.

When Devane, Tonks, and Shacklebolt entered the Figg house, Snape was already gone.

_A/N: I love all the reviews you are all giving! It sounds so cliché to say it, but they really do give the muse the fuel needed for continuing! Thank you logicalquirk, for your wonderful beta reading! All the typos and other stupid mistakes are mine, because sometimes the keyboard and word processing stuff refuses to heed my commands!_

_Next chapters up soon! _


	31. Chapter 32

Chapter 32: An Unexpected Kind of Agony

Snape Flooed directly into Albus Dumbledore's office. The old wizard looked up from bending over a large round crystal. Inside it, Snape could see the Dursley's house. Dumbledore's eyes were without their usual twinkle and Snape knew that he had seen and heard everything. Dropping into a chair, Snape put his head into a hand, rubbing at his eyes.

Dumbledore spoke softly. "Kingsley Shacklebolt will head up the information gathering. With Devane's assistance, the judge will make a quick reversal of his ruling."

"You had better be right. I cannot stand to think –" He stopped abruptly. In his mind, he heard Harry talking to Prongs.

'_He's coming back, he's coming back, he's coming back …'_

Bending his head, he thought back, _'Yes, I am. I am coming back. Soon. Soon.' _

Dumbledore was staring at him. He stared back, allowing the fullness of his emotions to wash through his eyes and into the blue ones. Dumbledore walked over and laid a gnarled hand on the younger wizard's shoulder in a comforting gesture. With a look of anguish, Snape threw his head back and let out a furious, roaring cry. Unable to contain the overwhelming emotions inside any longer, he collapsed onto his knees; very un-Snape-like cries forcing their way up his throat and out his mouth.

Teaching the next day was tortuous for both Snape and the students. One of the girls had asked where Harry was and Snape had coldly told her that it was none of anyone's business. Wimberly had come to sit in on the class. When he saw that Harry was not there, he started to express his satisfaction that Snape had gotten his family troubles ironed out. About half-way through his speech, he seemed to see that Snape was looking decidedly murderous, so he closed his mouth and settled back in his chair to observe the class. William was in one of his own moods, as well. Snape, being the more experienced at dishing out the resulting sarcasm and insults, refused to tolerate William. By late morning, it had come to a face-off between them.

"Mr. Archer. You may recall that you were told that failure to apply yourself in this class would result in failure of the class. I see that you have decided not to wait until the end of term to fail, but are choosing to do so now. That being the case, you may leave."

Williams bared his teeth at Snape. "I'm not going anywhere. You owe me an education and I'll get it."

"I will not force-feed it to you, and as you cannot learn by osmosis, you are wasting both our times. I repeat, leave my class. NOW." The black eyes held William with contempt.

William looked all around the class, seeking any sign of support from his classmates. No one dared to look at him or at Snape. Stalking to the door, William stopped, whirling to face Snape one last time. "You'll be sorry for failing me. You'll wish you never heard of me."

Snape sneered, his voice heavy with mockery, "Too late. It is already my dearest wish."

William turned deep red with fury, his hands clenching. Without another word he left the school.

Wimberly stood up, facing Snape. His mouth opened and closed a few times, but upon seeing that the man in black still looked capable of mayhem, he instead chose to follow William out.

Snape started the students on lab work so he wouldn't have to talk anymore. He walked around the room, correcting mistakes when he saw them, but otherwise moving in silence.

At lunch, he walked around the park, hoping to get rid of the pent-up feelings churning in his gut. Instead, he found himself watching the children at play on the swings, and thinking of Harry.

'_Harry? Can you hear me?'_

The silence weighed heavily. Snape was about to give up the wait for an answer when it came.

'_Severus? Can you come back yet?'_

'_No, not yet. Are you alright?'_

'_They can't hear me. I keep telling them I'm trying to be good, but they can't hear me.'_ The child's voice was sad.

'_You must use your real voice, Harry. They can hear you if you speak aloud.'_

'_I can't. My words won't work.' _

'_I can hear you when you talk to Prongs. Keep talking to him and I will answer.'_

'_Prongs … can't talk. He's lost.'_

'_How did he get lost?'_

'_Dudley losted him. He wanted to see him and when I let him, he got losted.'_

'_We'll find him. Don't worry.'_ Snape waited to see if Harry said anything else. After a while, Snape walked back to the classroom, keeping part of his mind alert to anything Harry was thinking or feeling. He hoped that they would get him away from there soon. He could feel that Harry was withdrawing even further; not wanting to ask questions anymore, not wanting to talk.

Instead of staying at the flat, Snape Flooed through to Mrs. Figg's. Sitting at her window, he watched the house at Number Four Privet Drive, needing to be as close to the boy as possible. She kept refilling his tea cup and he kept drinking it, not even noticing the cat smell anymore.

He had dozed off, leaning on the sill, when the Floo was activated again. Dumbledore stood there. Mrs. Figg fluttered around at having this great wizard in her living room, getting another tea cup and saucer from the kitchen. Dumbledore sat down in a chair next to Snape and gazed out the window. "Is he alright?"

"I don't know." He closed his eyes. "He's closed himself off to me. I believe he feels like it's safer to do that than to believe I will come for him. He is preparing himself not to be disappointed when he has to stay there." Snape said all this in an oddly flat voice.

Dumbledore sat there a while longer and then said, "Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley are at The Burrow. They were alarmed at not getting any owls from Harry and Arthur contacted me." He looked at Snape. "I told them it might be better if the story came from you. You know Harry best, after all. They are his friends, and they need to know what has happened."

Snape sighed heavily. "Yes, perhaps their friendship can do what we have not been able to do, help him to remember the good things about his present age." Sighing again, he added, "If he has any mind to remember with when we get him back." Looking at Dumbledore he whispered, "I am so afraid for him. I've never felt this much fear, even in the Dark Lord's presence. He is so terrified right now, and I'm losing the connection."

Dumbledore stood up. "I'll go to Devane and the Aurors. Perhaps I can speed things along a bit." Before he stepped back into the fireplace, he took a last look at Snape. He hoped that if they lost Harry, they would not also lose Snape. He didn't think he could bear to lose both of them.

Snape watched the Dursley's house for any sign of Harry. Once when the front door opened, he sat up straighter, but it was Dudley, leaving to saunter down the sidewalk where a few friends waited for him. Laughing, they all disappeared around the corner of the street.

He felt bone-tired. The fear that Harry was exuding sapped every bit of hope he had in him, and yet he kept trying to send hope towards him; telling him that it would be alright, telling him that they would come for him. As little as he wanted to leave, he knew he had to go to tell Hermione and Ron what had happened during this awful summer. He resented Dumbledore for leaving it to him, and yet, he was right that it had to come from him. He was the one who knew it all now.

Throwing down the Floo Powder, he called out, "The Burrow."

A surprised Molly Weasley was in her kitchen when he appeared. "Severus? This is a surprise …" Then, noticing his expression, she said, "I'll get Arthur."

"Get everyone. I only want to tell this once."

Molly went around, alerting everyone to Snape's arrival. Along with Molly and Arthur, there was Ron and Hermione, the twins, and Ginny. Everyone gathered in the garden under the light of oil torches. Ron and Hermione sat down, looking at Snape apprehensively. Hermione spoke. "It's Harry, isn't it? Something has happened. I knew when Dumbledore said you had to be the one to tell us … what is it? Is he hurt? He's not –"

"Hermione, give Professor Snape a chance." Arthur patted her shoulder. "We'll have it all in time." He looked just as apprehensive as everyone else as he said this. No one had ever seen Snape look so grim. The Potions Master was adept at hiding anything in his expression, and this new aspect of him was disquieting.

Snape looked at Hermione and Ron. "You were aware of course that Harry and I began to share a sort of connection this last spring?" At their nods, he continued, "It grew stronger, to the extent that we were feeling everything the other felt. While teaching one day, I suddenly heard him, felt him; he was in a tremendous amount of pain."

"His scar?" Hermione asked.

"No. This was pain from a different monster."

There were gasps all around. Snape rubbed his eyes tiredly, "I went to the Dursley's and found his uncle had been in a drunken rage. Harry was badly hurt. Tonks and Shacklebolt had to alter memories of neighbors so we could get him out quickly." He looked around at the group as they leaned forward, needing to know, yet not wanting to hear. He continued, not wanting to tell, yet needing to be done with it. "The healer was fearful that he would die, but our link allowed me to save him." There were sighs of relief until Snape interrupted, "But he was damaged emotionally. His mind is now like that of a child. He doesn't remember anything of being a wizard. In fact, he denies it being possible."

Ron said softly, "But he remembers _us_, right?"

Snape shook his head. "He only knew me because I was in his dream state during the healing process. He only remembers his aunt, uncle and cousin, and the abuse they did."

Molly gasped in horror, "Abuse? What kind of abuse?"

Ron said grimly, "I think I know some of it. Remember, mum, when we told you they were starving him, back at the beginning of third year?"

Snape nodded. "I cannot even begin to tell you the extent of it. But this last episode caused him not only to regress, but to become mute. He was able to talk to me through our link, but that's all."

"But something else must have happened now? Something that has you even more concerned, Severus?" Arthur asked with a frown.

"The Muggle courts awarded custody of Harry back to his uncle. He has been there since yesterday evening. He is no longer speaking to me. All I am feeling is fear and a loss of will."

Hermione exploded, "But that's ridiculous! How could they? Didn't they see how badly he was hurt by them?"

Shaking his head, Snape looked at Arthur, who sighed. "The neighbors were Obliviated, according to procedure in a case involving a wizard among Muggles," he stated knowingly. "They wouldn't remember how Harry was hurt, and after he was healed, it couldn't be proven."

Ron stood up, fists clenched, face red with anger. "Then we go get him. Let's go now."

Snape stood up too. "We can't. We must adhere to Wizarding Law; there can be no interference in a Muggle ruling such as this. We have to wait for the Aurors to compile the necessary evidence to persuade the judge to reverse his decision. He's given us three days after which his decision will be final."

Molly burst into sobs. Everyone else would have gladly joined her. Hermione stood next to Ron, and her hand went to his. "We can't just leave him. At least before, when he was with those people he knew he would get to come here for the last part of the summer. If he doesn't remember us, he doesn't even have that."

Snape said scathingly, "Don't you think I've thought of all that? Don't you think I haven't gone over every possible solution in my mind? I would gladly go to Azkaban if it would get him out of there! I can't stand knowing what he's been through and going through again! I want him home as well!" He halted, breathing hard, his eyes blazing.

Everyone gaped at him for a long moment. No one, including the adults, had ever seen or heard Snape express such deep emotion before. The fact that it concerned Harry was doubly disorienting. Then they all began talking at once. The twins sat plotting disaster against the Dursleys and Ginny was crying along with Molly. Ron and Hermione were both making wild gestures as they discussed what they thought might not have been thought of before. Arthur stood beside Snape. Quietly, he asked, "Do you think he will make it through?"

Snape shook his head. "I wish I knew. I can't reach him. I only feel his despair."

Arthur could see despair in Snape's own face. The black-haired wizard had aged years since he had seen him last. Like the others, the fact that the man wore his feelings in plain sight was making him uneasy. Snape was always the one who was cool in the face of danger. Not knowing what else he could say, he just stood there, determining to at least be a solid presence to his fellow Order member.

No one had noticed when Tonks walked out of the house; but everyone heard when Molly screamed, "Harry!" Then all eyes were immediately on the boy standing just beside and a little behind Tonks. There was a rush towards him that suddenly stopped when he flinched and drew back from them. Ron had to bodily restrain Hermione from trying to get to him. Harry looked around at them all, his expression clearly telling them he did not know a single person there.

In the resulting quiet, Snape spoke softly, "Harry?"

Harry looked across the yard and saw Snape. In the space of seconds, he had run across the yard and flung his arms around the man. Snape wrapped his arms around Harry, bending his head to place a cheek against his hair.

'_Tonks got me out. The judge came and yelled at Uncle Vernon and he said Tonks could bring me to you. Please let me stay with you … please …'_

'_They won't take you from me again. Are you alright?'_

Harry shuddered and Snape felt without any words what had been done in the short time he had been there. His arms tightened around the thin shoulders as the first wracking sobs tore through his body. He slowly turned so that his back was to the rest of the yard, shielding Harry from the others. Lowering himself to the ground, he kept the boy enfolded and began rocking him gently as he cried.

Tonks waited for a few minutes before she knelt down beside them. Snape glanced up at her, never ceasing the rocking. She spoke quietly, "Dumbledore must've done something. Devane suddenly had what he needed and the judge himself went to the house. When he saw Harry, what he had already been through since yesterday, he immediately had Dursley arrested. He won't be out any time soon. He said he would issue the new custody papers in the morning." She watched them for another bit, before asking, "Want me to take the class in the morning? Harry needs you to be with him, doesn't he?" Snape nodded, silently thanking her.

All the other people in the yard stood in quiet witness. The twins looked at each other. One of them said, "Now this is something you never expect to see," and then the other, "and something you hope never to see again."

Molly shushed them and then went hesitantly to the pair on the ground. "Severus, I don't have much, but I have a little in the way of Calming Draught and Sleeping Potion, if you think it would help."

"Both, please." When she returned carrying the bottles, she helped Snape coax Harry to swallow them. A short time later, he was sleeping, head leaning against the chest of the teacher. Gathering him closer, Snape stood, easily lifting him to carry him. He followed Molly into the house and up to a bedroom where he laid Harry down and carefully covered him with a blanket. He turned to Molly. "Do you have a pillow I might have? I need to transfigure it for Harry." With a nod, she left and soon came back with a small pillow. Snape withdrew his wand and waved it over the pillow. Prongs appeared and Snape placed the toy in Harry's arms. In his sleep, he pulled the toy beneath his chin with a sigh.

Molly managed to hold back a cry at the sight of Snape giving Harry a toy, but she couldn't resist giving him a fierce hug before she left the room.

Snape sat on the edge of the bed, brushing the dark hair away from the forehead of the boy. Closing his eyes, he considered how he felt at this moment, how right it was for him to be here, caring for Harry. He wondered briefly if it was all some sort of dream from which he would awake, again hating the Boy Who Lived. If it was, it was a good dream. Along with the nightmare, a sort of family had been born. An unwanted orphan and a cantankerous Potions Master; an unlikely alliance.

He bent his mind to entering the dreaming place. Through the white mist he went, until he found the little boy

'_Harry, you are safe now.'_

'_Don't leave me again. I've been so afraid.'_

'_You can rest. I'll be here to keep the bad dreams away.'_

'_I saw a snake … she's really big … she wants to eat me up …'_

'_I won't let her get you.'_ He sat on the ground in the mist and the child scooted over into his lap. Big green eyes looked up at him.

'_That's good … you know what? I think I can understand what she says.'_

'_Yes. You can understand snakes. It's called Parseltongue, and it is a talent you have.'_

'_No. I don't want to have it. Don't tell me again I'm a wizard. I'm not a freak.'_

'_You are not a freak. You are a very normal wizard. Just rest for now. We can discuss the rest later when you're feeling better.'_ He looked down at the sleeping child in his dream arms. A small hand had caught hold of the fabric of his shirt, holding tightly to the dark man.

Snape opened his eyes. Harry turned over to curl on his side, facing away. Prongs was pulled in tight to his chest. Snape hesitated a moment, then stretched out to lay beside the boy, putting a protective arm over him. He allowed himself to sleep, knowing that he would be able to keep watch while he did so; now that Harry was here.

At the door, Hermione and Ron stood silently, taking in the scene. A few seconds later, Molly came up the stairs and motioned them away. A very tender look came over her face as she looked into the room. Then she quietly closed the door.


	32. Chapter 33

Chapter 33: Accio!

Snape sat drinking a strong cup of tea in the Weasley kitchen. When he had awakened, Harry had still been sleeping deeply. Searching through their connection, Snape could feel that the new physical injuries were healing. The additional emotional and mental damage was not. He withdrew from the bedroom as quietly as possible and went downstairs, expecting to find the kitchen empty at the early hour. Molly was already there, stirring a large pot of something that smelled delicious. When he walked in, she immediately poured him a cup of tea and made him sit at the kitchen table. She sat across from him, sipping at her own cup. He tried for his usual stern countenance, but she would have none of it.

"Severus, you'll not be able to fool any of us with that attitude. We all saw you with Harry when he arrived. I saw you with him upstairs, as did Ron and Hermione." She gave him a motherly smile and he sneered, rolling his eyes.

"I am still the same as I have always been. Please do not make the mistake of imbuing in me traits that are not mine." He glared at her soft look, and then giving up, he slumped slightly. "I do not know how to deal with these emotions, Molly."

She patted his hand. "You're doing fine. Harry has needed someone to care for him for so long … I'm sorry it took all this for it to happen, and no one would have ever dreamed that you would be the one to turn so paternal. But none of us has any practice at it before we're thrown into parenthood. Considering all that's been against you, I'd say you're doing very well indeed."

Snape blinked at the word paternal. Paternal? Father? He had not thought of it in that regard. Guardian. Mentor. He felt much more comfortable with those words. He sipped more tea. Then he said, "I'm not sure Harry would agree with you. If he were in his right mind, he would be as appalled as I am at what you witnessed between us. The child in him needs the security I can offer at the moment. When he is himself again, our relationship will return to normal."

Molly shook her head. "What you have now is what's normal, Severus. When he is himself again, he will still have the father figure he has longed for."

"How do you know that he wants this father figure? Perhaps he is happy to be unencumbered with one."

"No. He's not." Molly and Snape both jumped at the new voice. They looked up to see Ron. He sat down at the table with them, looking at Snape. "Harry wanted to be here at the Burrow because he could feel a part of a real family. He loved being with Hermione's parents because it was a real family, not that farce of a family he had to stay with. He didn't say in so many words. But we could see the difference in him when he was here and when it was time for him to go to the Dursleys. He dreaded it." He looked down at his hands. "We should have seen what was happening. All this time, we've just let him tell us it was dismal but tolerable. Our best mate, and we let him down."

He seemed to be thinking, and then he looked back up at Snape. "I might never like you, Professor. But Harry obviously does. What I saw last night was hard to swallow. But you've been there for him. He trusted you way back before Hermione and me. He said you were just doing what was right when you did the things you did. And that was before all this mess." He took a deep breath. "What I'm getting at is that Harry has needed a father of his own. As much as my dad cares for him, or Hermione's dad, it's not the same as having your own, I don't think. Now he does. That's a good thing." He blushed and stood up. "Now that I've run my mouth off, I'll go back upstairs." He hurried away, feet thundering on the steps.

Snape sat silently, turning Ron's comments over in his head. As annoying as it was, he might have some valid points. Shaking his head, he chided himself. Harry might need him now. But when he was better, everything would go back to normal. He could not have explained why the thought of 'back to normal' made him feel depressed.

The link opened with Harry calling desperately, _'Severus! I'm lost again! Where are you?'_

Snape leapt to his feet and up the stairs. Molly didn't know what had caused him to go running, and she was right on his heels. Opening the door to the bedroom, Snape saw Harry, cowering in the corner of the room. Going to him, he knelt down.

'_You're safe. We're at the Burrow.'_

'_Where?'_

'_I believe it has been one of your most favorite places. Come down and have breakfast. Your best friends are here.'_

Harry had been getting up, and he stopped. _'Best friends? I don't have friends. I'm not allowed.'_

'_You do have friends, and these are good ones. Come.'_ He held out a hand. Harry hesitantly stood up. He saw Molly at the door and moved to stand behind Snape. Snape drew him forward, and spoke aloud, "Harry, this is Molly Weasley. She is your best friend's mother. This is her home."

Molly smiled at him. "Harry dear, we're so glad to have you here. Won't you come have some breakfast? I have your favorite, cinnamon buns."

Harry looked at Snape, shaking his head, _'I can't have a favorite. I'm not allowed. I have to have the last of what everyone else has had. That's the right way.' _

Snape rolled his eyes. Still speaking out loud, he answered, "Of course you can have a favorite food. Your Uncle and Aunt may not have allowed it, but from now on you are allowed to have friends, even best ones. You are allowed to have favorite foods and enjoy them. You are allowed to say if you do not like something. You will not be in trouble. No one will hit you if you spill. No one will yell at you."

Harry stared awhile before nodding. Snape motioned Molly to go ahead of them and they followed her back down the stairs. Harry's mouth hung open at the sight of the kitchen. Pots were stirring themselves while a dish was being washed by a scrubbing brush in the sink. Knitting needles clicked as a sweater was being knitted over a basket of yarn balls. The twins, Ginny, Hermione and Ron were already there. Harry looked at them all and then looked like he would turn around and go back upstairs. Snape caught him by the arm, and pulled him gently to the table and sat him down.

Molly placed a plate with a cinnamon bun on it in front of Harry asking, "Severus, what should we do? No one wants to make this any more difficult for him."

Snape looked around the table. "The best thing would be for you all to act as you normally would. I've told Harry that you are his friends. This is a favorite place, a good place. He needs to get to know you again. Just be yourselves." He looked at Harry, and pointing to Ron and Hermione, he said, "This is Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. You have been best friends with them since you were eleven."

Harry turned surprised eyes on Ron and Hermione.

'_Can they hear me?'_

"If you speak aloud, they can hear you."

'_I told you. My words don't work.'_

Snape touched his arm. "When you are ready, your words will work. You will find your voice. For now, I can tell them what you want to say."

'_I don't know them. How can we be friends if I don't know them?'_

"It might take time, but you will remember them."

'_How do I be their friend?'_

"You already are their friend. Just be yourself. There is no right or wrong way to be."

The others had been listening in fascination, hearing only Snape, but understanding from his answers what Harry must be saying. Hermione was sitting across the table from him. She said, "Harry, we love you no matter how you are. We love you because you are you."

The silence after that was too much for the twins. They burst into a rowdy song, slapping breakfast onto their plates with gusto and being in general their silly selves. Molly chided them, "Perhaps you two could use a little more restraint whilst you're being yourselves."

George jumped up and hugged her. "But Mum, How's Harry to know how to have fun if we don't show him? We are the experts of fun, after all."

Molly looked disapproving, but Harry was most surprised at her acceptance of their behavior_. 'Is she angry? What will she do to them?'_

"Molly loves all her children, even when they misbehave." Snape said. Molly looked startled, and had to keep reminding herself that Snape was talking in response to Harry's unheard side of a conversation.

Harry didn't understand his answer. _'Will she make them go without dinner? Will she let them get what's coming to them?'_

Snape knew that the words Harry used were ones he had heard countless times from the Dursleys. He wanted Harry to be clear about the difference between discipline and abuse, but he was not sure it could be explained simply enough for his mind to comprehend. He took a deep breath and looked into Harry's eyes. "Harry, when children misbehave, a loving parent does not do things that damage them. They may speak to them harshly if they have done something really wrong or dangerous, but they do not call their children names that hurt. They do not strike their children in anger. Do you understand that?"

Harry looked at him for so long that Snape thought he must not understand. He was about to try again when Harry said, _'My family doesn't love me. They told me I was bad. I'm a no-good freak. I'm … I'm …' _His face crumpled as he tried to bite back a sob. Snape pulled him into a hug while everyone around the table looked shocked; at least the ones who had not seen the close exchange the night before. Snape? Hugging Harry? Again?

Finally coming to a sense of decorum, Hermione said loudly, "I thought you all wanted to play Quidditch? Well, daylight's burning and you're just sitting. Get outside!"

Everyone used the opportunity to get away from the uncomfortably intimate display. Piling out the back door, they could be heard arguing over who got what broom and which positions they would play.

Snape held Harry for as long as Harry held on to him. After a while, he spoke into the link. _'Your family does not know what a good boy you are. They do not know how to love anyone. They hurt you in many ways, and it was wrong of them. You have done nothing wrong.'_

Harry didn't want to leave the safe arms. He felt like nothing could hurt him when he was with this man. He kept his promises. He kept the bad dreams away. He made pain go away. For a long time, he held very still, afraid to let go. Then he heard all the laughing from outside. It sounded like the playground.

'_What are they doing?'_

"Let's go and see."

Harry sat back and wiped his eyes on his sleeve. Snape ruffled his hair and stood up. Harry followed him out the back door where he looked up at the sky. Snape watched him closely as Harry stood awe-struck at the people flying on brooms over the back yard.

Harry asked, _'Wizards can fly?'_

'_Yes.'_

'_If I were a wizard, I could fly. I coulda flown away from my family.'_

'_You are a wizard. You are one of the best Quidditch players in a century. But you would not have flown away from your family.'_

'_Yes, I would.'_

'_You could have.'_ Snape looked at him steadily_. 'But you were brave and you did what you were told was right. You stayed.'_

Harry said nothing to this, but Snape felt his rejection of the idea of being brave. They watched the others flying, throwing the Quaffle back and forth.

Ron flew down and landed in front of them. He gave Snape a questioning look and waited for a nod before he asked, 'Hey, Harry, want to borrow my broom and play a round?"

Harry stared at the red-haired boy who was the friend he couldn't remember. '_I can't fly.'_

Snape wearily sighed. "You _are_ a wizard. And you _can_ fly. You have to want to badly enough. You have to believe it for yourself. Until you do, all this will mean nothing to you."

Now Harry stared at Snape. _'If I'm not a wizard, will you stop liking me?'_

"No. I won't stop liking you, even if you decide that you don't want to do magic. You cannot decide you are not a wizard, because you are one." He looked up at Ron and waved him away.

Ron mounted the broom, but before he kicked off he said to Harry, "Flying is what you love most. If you change your mind, you can use a broom anytime."

Harry watched in silence until Snape said, "If you'd like to stay a while longer, I'm sure that the Weasleys will be happy to have you here. I have to go back to teach."

'_Don't leave me here. They can't hear me like you can.'_

Feeling like he should be used to having to say this to Harry by now, Snape tried to keep his voice neutral. "They could hear you if you'd speak out loud." He closed his eyes at the expected response.

'_My words don't work.'_

Getting up, he said, "We'll find a way to fix them."

Harry followed him into the house. Snape spoke to Molly, who invited them to come back anytime. Snape gave her a considering look. "That might be good for him. I've been avoiding undue magic around him as it startles him so. But perhaps what he needs is the immersion into it. If you truly don't mind, we will return for dinner."

"You don't have to ask. He can stay here, if you think he would," she said with a smile at Harry.

"He won't. Not being able to talk to anyone makes him fearful."

Ron and Hermione came in. Looking at them, Hermione said, "You're leaving?"

At Snape's nod she walked hesitantly up to Harry, as if afraid he might just run from her. She made an effort to look into his face and he finally met her eyes. "Harry, we miss you. When you remember, you'll know what a lot of fun we have together, the three of us." She grinned at Ron and then added, "We're the Trio. We need you or there can't be a Trio."

Harry had nothing in his expression to give an indication that he understood any of what she said. Taking a chance, she quickly reached out and gave him a tight hug. She felt him stiffen at her touch, but she hung on until he pulled back, his green eyes looking at her in question. For a wild moment of hope, she thought he might say something, anything.

Instead, he backed over to Snape, seeking the closeness of the one with whom he felt comfortable. Snape gave them a look that said it had been worth the try. Then looking down at Harry, he said, "We have to Floo. Are you ready?"

Harry looked apprehensively at the fire roaring in the fireplace. Then he suddenly looked towards the stairs. '_Prongs!_'

Snape waved a hand. "Accio Prongs." In a moment, Prongs came soaring down the stairs and into Harry's hands.

He looked at it in amazement. _'He flew!'_

Snape said evenly, "He came at my command. You could do that too, make him come to you. If you say the words, you can do magic, too."

Harry didn't deny it immediately this time, but Snape still saw the doubt. Ron and Hermione were looking at the toy in question. Snape said quickly, "It's an explanation for another time." To Harry he said, "Ready now?"

Harry hugged the stuffed animal and nodded. He went to Snape and threaded an arm through his. Snape pulled him close and said, "Molly, if you would throw the powder?"

She bustled over and did as she had been asked. Snape used both arms to hold Harry as he walked with him into the flames, shouting for the flat.

After they were gone, Molly looked at the other two. "He'll be right again. I just know it."

They got back to the school in time for the afternoon session. Harry looked happy to see Tonks, and allowed her to hug him without flinching. Snape supposed it was because she had been the one to take him away from the Dursleys. He went straight to the kneehole under the desk, this time pulling the desk chair up so that it blocked anyone from readily seeing in.

Class proceeded quite pleasantly without the distraction of William and Snape's more tolerant mood. During the afternoon, Harry pushed the chair back and for awhile he sat in it, using the desk to read his books. After seeing more than a few curious looks his way, he returned to hiding. Snape thought that some progress had been made, however slight.

They stopped at the park after school. Snape was of two minds concerning this. On one hand, Harry had never been allowed to be a normal child, allowed to know the joy of playing just for its own sake. Snape wanted him to have that this time around.

On the other hand, it was imperative that Harry realize that he was in fact a wizard, and accept it. It had been sheer luck that no contact from the Dark Lord had come during the summer term, thus far. It had been extremely fortunate that he apparently had other things to occupy him besides getting into Harry's mind. In his current state, Snape knew that Harry had no idea of the concept of Occluding. He doubted that he himself would be able to adequately protect him from an intrusion. As the time that Voldemort stayed away lengthened, it was certain that his time of attack grew nearer. Snape felt that he should hasten Harry towards whatever realization he needed to regain his age-appropriate mind.

He watched Harry soar on the swings. He was imagining himself flying on a broom as he pumped his legs to gain as much height as possible. Snape spoke into the link, '_You could make it real. If you want to, you can really be flying this evening.'_

Harry said nothing, but he gradually slowed down until the swing stopped. Hanging onto the chains, he leaned forward, scuffing his toes in the gravel. Snape felt him thinking about what he had said, weighing the words. He trusted that Snape had told him the truth. But he still could not see in himself anything more than the worthless boy that his relatives had told him he was.

Billy and his mother arrived and Harry followed him to the slides when he called. He came over and handed Prongs to Snape and then ran back again. Snape looked at the toy in his lap.

What a seemingly ordinary thing, a toy. Yet this one was special. It was only a toy at the moment, but it also signified something deeper. A memory Harry needed. Snape found that he no longer felt intense dislike of James Potter as he rubbed the fuzzy material with a thumb. The man had been a good father while he had been alive. Harry would have had a good life. He still felt a bitterness that Lily had chosen James over him. But over the last weeks, some of that had faded as well. He remembered more of her softness, and was able to think of how much better off she had been to be with Potter, instead of with the Death Eater he had been. If only she had chosen him, he might not have turned to the darkness. If only she had born his child, he might not have turned into the bitter, hard man he was.

Shaking his head, he realized that he had to move well past the 'if only'. Harry needed someone to be the father he had not had. Molly had said it. Even that son of hers agreed and Snape knew that Ron had admitted it with much reluctance.

Thinking of the first prophecy, Snape knew that Dumbledore had been right. He was the sentinel of the mind. By their connection, he held the duty of guarding the mind of the light. It was his duty to bring Harry back, by whatever means necessary. At this moment, he felt like it was necessary to get Harry onto a broom. If he really flew, then Snape just knew that the rest would begin to fall into place. It was the key.

Standing up he called, "Harry. It's time to go."

Harry walked reluctantly to where Snape stood by the bench. Billy followed. "See you tomorrow Harry! Bye!" He gave a wave that Harry returned, and then ran off to join some other children.

Harry looked at them longingly, but Snape said, "Molly is expecting us for dinner. We should go home first to get you cleaned up." He handed Prongs back to him and they walked back to the flat. Snape sent Harry to get clean clothes from his trunk, but when he didn't return quickly, he went to the bedroom.

Harry was sitting on the floor, staring into the trunk. His wand still lay on top of all his belongings. Snape felt his reluctance to touch it and he knelt down. "It is your own wand. It cannot harm you. If you pick it up, you will feel the magic within you."

Harry reached out slowly and touched the wand with a single finger. Snape drew his own wand to show Harry. "Hold it like this." Harry looked from the wand in Snape's hand to the one in the trunk. His hand shook slightly as he picked his up. A soft glow lit up the wand and traveled down into his hand and arm. Snape felt his alarm and placed his hand over Harry's before he could drop the wand in fear. 'It's alright. It's the magic inside you that you feel. See? I told you. You're a wizard. That wouldn't happen with a boy who is not one." He guided Harry's hand through some motions, allowing him to experience the sensations of the energy flow. When Snape let go, Harry held it for a few more moments before laying it down.

There was wonder in the eyes he turned to Snape.

'_Was that really me doing that?'_

"Yes."

Harry sat there, overwhelmed by the need to believe. But if he was able to do magic, and if it was not wrong, why had he been punished when he had accidentally made things happen? They told him if things happened, he was bad, evil, no good. Only freaks could cause lights to come on when it was scary dark. Only an evil child could make Uncle Vernon's favorite belt to disappear when he came after Harry with it, intent on beating the bad out of him. Only a freak could cause Dudley and his friends to trip over suddenly untied show laces.

Snape heard all this going around in a torrent inside Harry's mind. He took Harry's chin in his hand and turned his face towards him. "You have to face that you are a wizard. There is so much more than just this," he indicated the wand, "and flying. There's so much you need to know about who you are. I will help you deal with it. But you must make a start."

Harry wanted to be a strong little boy. He wanted to be a good boy and please this man. But what if he was an awful wizard, just like he was an awful boy? The man would probably take back all the good things, all the good feelings, because Harry would still be no good.

Snape sat all the way down on the floor then. The depths of Harry's despair washed through him. He felt caught in a no-win situation. How could he help him become what he had been, when it meant that what he was meant to do might kill him? How could he put such a huge burden, the hope of the wizarding world, on this child's shoulders? And he wondered again just how it had happened that he cared so much about Harry Potter. He felt despair of his own. How would he be able to protect him when Voldemort next insinuated himself into Harry's thoughts? It suddenly felt like an impossible feat, and the thought of Harry dying due to his failure did more than depress him; it sent a knife through his heart.

He looked down when he felt Harry tug on his hand. Sorrow-filled black eyes met sad green ones. The two bent their heads together, foreheads touching. Harry whispered in his head, '_I'm trying. I really am.'_

'_I know. I am too,_' Snape whispered back.


	33. Chapter 34

_A/N: I am inserting an apology here at the request of an irate reader. It would seem that I have neglected to warn readers of the darkening theme of this fic. If you don't want to read about how Harry is helped by Snape to deal with the effects of a difficult and abusive home life, then stop here. Child abuse is never a humorous subject, and I would not want anyone to think that I feel that it is. It is a very serious and heinous crime against the ones who cannot protect themselves. There will be more material in later chapters that have some violence. I have also changed the rating to reflect how the level of material has changed. Hopefully, this warning will be enough to stop the threats the reader made regarding having my fic removed from the site. As always, I don't own any of this. The characters are all JKR's!_

Chapter 34: The Past is Past

They ate dinner every night with the Weasleys; Harry watching afterwards as the others played wizard chess, Quidditch, and other pastimes belonging in the wizard world. They would invite him to join in, but while he would watch intently, he would shake his head at their invitations. He asked questions and seemed less and less fearful and that made Snape feel hopeful that he was making progress towards recovery. Everyone grew used to hearing the strange one-sided conversations as Snape responded aloud to Harry's silent mind speech. It helped them to know that Harry was involved in what was going on, even if he didn't speak directly to them. Ron and Hermione acted like he was perfectly normal when they spoke to him, telling him about themselves and about all the things they had done together with Harry. They talked about classes, friends, and teachers. Snape had asked them not to mention anything about the Dark Lord. He wanted to help him see only positive aspects of the world he belonged in for now.

Seeing Harry carry around the stuffed deer toy bothered Ron a great deal at first. But when Snape explained its significance to them, he saw it differently. It was difficult to know that Harry had not had toys of his own in the whole time he was living with the Dursleys. As poor as the Weasleys were, the children had always had toys to play with. He saw to it that Harry found the deer quickly if it was misplaced. He would playfully gallop the toy into Harry's arms when he sent the deer flying towards him, just as if he really were a seven-year-old child. Harry would look delighted at the animated animal as it danced in the air around him.

Snape had become more and more apprehensive concerning the next contact with Darkness. After speaking with Dumbledore, he had informed the adult Weasleys that he now carried vials of potions that would render Harry deeply unconscious if his scar should begin to hurt, or if Snape received the summons through his Dark Mark and Harry felt it. He had a special Portkey Token in his pocket that would send Harry to the Hogwarts Hospital Wing. Tonks and Shacklebolt knew that they would be alerted to its use so they could be instantly on guard.

Snape was going over these plans in the deepest part of his mind, a part he thought he had hidden from Harry, when Harry came up to his side. He had left his place where he was watching the other teens play Quidditch. He searched Snape's face with worried green eyes.

'_What's wrong?'_

'_I am just thinking,'_ Snape replied. _'Nothing is wrong.'_

'_You are thinking a lot.'_ Harry looked even more worried_. 'Something is coming, isn't it?'_

'_Possibly. We are making sure we are prepared, in case it does.'_

'_What is it? It makes you feel all afraid. It makes me feel afraid.'_

Snape brushed a hand over Harry's hair. _'You cannot understand yet. When you can, I will explain.'_

'_When my words work again, will I be able to understand?'_

'_I think so. We'll see.' _Giving Harry a crooked smile, he pushed him back towards the Quidditch game. _'Go back and watch. It's almost time to go back to the flat._'

Harry gave him a quick hug before obeying. Snape watched him, pushing his worry deeper so that Harry wouldn't feel it.

The summer term was drawing to its close. Snape had mixed feelings about it. He was not certain that any knowledge he had gained would be very helpful. He thought that he had an understanding of Muggle teen culture from his interactions with the other teachers, and his observations of the students. The only thing he thought that made a difference was that he felt a little more lenient towards the differences their upbringing caused. It was evident that being raised Muggle in the early years did not instill the kind of discipline that wizard parents gave to their children. Wizard children knew that they had to be precise when they began learning magic. They understood from home experience what could happen when one gave even the slightest wrong motion or inflection to a spell. It seemed Muggles were more apt to try to 'fix' a mistake by either ignoring it, or randomly trying different remedies in hopes of finding one that worked. In the Muggle world, this often worked. You could not be random in the magical realm. Snape thought that this realization helped his understanding of the difficulties Muggleborns had in the Potions lab, even if it didn't help explain why Longbottom and Lovegood lacked the ability to act and react appropriately.

In his time away from the classroom, Snape was writing up plans and outlines for fine-tuning Hogwarts orientation for Muggleborns. One evening, he sat on the Weasley sofa, parchment in hand as he worked. Harry was on the floor with Prongs and another toy that had been Ron's. He had brought the stuffed bear down to Harry when he saw that he was bored with watching the chess game being played.

Snape could hear that Harry was playing out a typical child-like interaction between the toys when his attention was caught.

'_Fly Prongs! Fly away!' _

He looked up to see Harry gesturing and the toy soaring. At first he thought Harry had thrown him, and then he saw Prongs stop and hover. Snape's eyes widened and he looked around quickly to see if one of the others was helping Harry in his play. Everyone else had their attention on the game of chess between Ron and Fred.

Snape held his breath. Harry was smiling and moving his hand. The hovering Prongs obeyed the directions the hand indicated. Harry wiggled his fingers and the deer did a little jig in the air. Molly walked in and gasped, bringing everyone else's attention up from the game. The look of happy intent on Harry's face, and the flying animal brought several of them to their feet. At their movement, Harry dropped his hand and Prongs dropped to the floor. He had a look of fear on his face at their open-mouthed reactions.

Snape went to the floor beside him, "It's alright. Do it again."

Harry looked all around the room. Hermione and Ginny were bouncing up and down on their toes in excitement. The boys were all grinning, Ron encouraging, "Yeah, do it again, Harry!"

Harry looked up at Snape. _'I'm not in trouble?'_

He shook his head, "You are most definitely not in trouble. Try it again."

Harry looked down at Prongs. Holding out his hand, he made an upward motion and the deer rose into the air again. It faltered at the reactions he heard from the others, but Snape said again, "It's alright." Harry waved his hand, causing Prongs to go zooming around everyone's head.

There were more stunned reactions as they realized he was not using a wand, and his charm was unspoken. The deer was moving through Harry's force of will. Ron and Hermione were hugging one another as were Molly and Ginny. The twins did a celebration dance around the room. Harry looked bewildered by it all and brought Prongs to rest in his lap.

Snape had an uncharacteristic grin on his face. He pulled Harry into a hug and whispered, "I'm very proud of you."

'_I made it happen. I did magic?'_

"Yes, you did magic. You did it very well."

Hermione squatted down on the floor, beaming, "Harry, that was brilliant! You didn't even use your wand!"

Harry looked at Snape in question. '_Should I have used a wand? I don't have it with me.'_

"If you can do magic without your wand, no one will object. Most wizards need their wand to focus their energy. It appears that you do not, at the moment."

Molly asked, "Do you think it's like accidental magic? Like children do when they're young?"

Snape looked thoughtful. "I'm not certain. It looked very controlled. Accidental magic usually is more unorganized."

Molly beamed. "That's what I was thinking. In all the years I've seen plenty of accidental magic with my lot." She swept a hand indicating the children of hers who were present. "But they were never able to willfully repeat something, once it was brought to their attention that they had done it."

Now that Harry had done that little bit, he began to make other objects fly around the room. Soon Prongs was joined by chess pieces, apples, candles and even a sweater that Molly was knitting. Ron and Hermione grabbed him in a three way hug and danced him around in a circle. Harry was grinning, and for a brief moment, Snape caught a flash of recognition go through him. Harry looked at the two, a puzzled expression on his face. He opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something and they waited. Then it was gone. Harry pulled away from them, and catching Prongs, he walked quickly outside. Inside the room, the other objects fell to the floor. Ron went after him before Snape could stop him. He followed Harry as he walked rapidly to a tree and sat down underneath it.

Sitting down beside him, Ron said, "It's alright, mate."

They sat in companionable silence. Harry tried to recapture what he had felt a minutes before. Thinking hard, he focused on a picture of Ron in his mind. All he could manage to see were images that made absolutely no sense to him.

Inside the house, Snape was holding his breath again. Hermione saw the intent look and asked, "What is it?"

"He's remembering. But he doesn't realize what he's remembering." He looked at Hermione in surprise, "Were you two with him in first year, and happened upon that three-headed dog guarding the Sorcerer's Stone?"

She nodded in excitement, "Yes!"

Snape closed his eyes. "He's remembering the flying car … landing in the Whomping Willow … now seeing you petrified in the infirmary … Aragog … Quidditch games …" The images kept coming faster and faster. Most images were of Harry with Ron, interspersed with some that included Hermione.

Suddenly there was an image of Snape, looking his most forbidding and menacing, standing dark and tall, glaring down his nose. He was the definition of everything hateful and malevolent. Everything came to a halt, as if Harry had stopped the images to get a closer look at this one. The black eyes were fierce in a stony face. "… clearly, fame isn't everything …" and then another view, Snape with a nasty-looking sneer … "so, you think you're better than everyone else, you're above the rules … You're just as arrogant as your father was …" and then yet another, Snape with a glint of madness in his eyes … "I just saved your skin, and you should be thanking me on bended knee. You would have been well-served if he had killed you …"

Snape strode to the door quickly, his face turning pale as he whispered, "No!"

Hermione followed. "What now? What is he remembering?"

"He's remembering me; as I have been to him through these past years."

Hermione gasped, "That can't be good," and followed Snape's line of sight as he watched Harry under the tree with Ron. Harry had a horrified look on his face as he turned from Ron to the house, where Snape stood.

'_You hate me. You've always hated me.'_

'_Harry –'_

'_I saw your face, heard your words, you never liked me.'_

'_Let me tell you –'_

'_You lied.'_

'_Harry, we can talk.'_

There was silence in the link; dead silence and Snape knew Harry had shut a door against him. He walked out to the tree, stopping in front of Harry. Speaking out loud, he bent down to him, holding out his hand. "Let's go home so we can talk about what's happened."

Harry threw an arm across his eyes and turned away. Ron was looking perplexed at the reaction to Snape's words. "What's going on?"

Snape withdrew his hand, a grim look around his mouth. "Harry is beginning to remember things, among them, things about our past relationship."

Ron got a knowing look on his face. "Oh-h-h. But that means he knows how you …" He stopped with the realization of just what Harry might have remembered. He looked at Harry, who was still sitting with an arm flung across his face, a child's way of making a monster go away. He touched Harry's shoulder and he jerked away from him. "Harry, Snape's really alright now. He may have been a right git before, but he's alright now," he said earnestly.

Snape heaved a deep breath. Knowing that it would not be any easier if they delayed, he said firmly, "It's time to go, Harry. Get up and come into the house."

Harry turned his whole body away in defiance, his eyes still shut against seeing Snape standing there. Snape waited a few moments to see if he would get up without further urging. When he didn't, he barked sharply, "Now."

Harry opened his eyes to glare at him reproachfully. At the set look on Snape's face, he stood up. He walked rapidly to the house and stood by the fireplace, waiting.

Ron followed as Snape followed Harry. He joined Hermione as she stood looking very worried. She had quickly told the others what was happening after Snape had gone to the tree. Molly stepped forward. "If you need for him to, he could stay with us, Severus."

He looked like he wanted to say something biting and just managed to hold it back. Then, in a tight voice, he said, "No. It's better for him to be with me. I can hear him, if he chooses to talk to me."

He strode to the fireplace and picked up a handful of Floo Powder. He waited until Harry reluctantly took his arm before throwing it down and calling out for the flat.

At the flat, Harry took Prongs into the bedroom. Snape waited a few minutes, trying to calm himself down before going in. This was an unexpected development, although he should have foreseen it as a possibility. It was entirely logical that once Harry's memory came back, he would be aware of how difficult their past had been. In a child's mind, trust and truth were absolutes. He was not yet able to see the fine lines, understand the battles that had been fought to bring trust and truth about. By his response, Snape was certain that his maturity level had not kept pace with the memory recovery. He could only try to talk to him, attempt to bring about an understanding in the child and hope it continued to grow as the child became the teenager he had been.

He went to the bedroom then and stopped short. In the corner, Harry had made a sort of tent out of blankets and chairs. It was very similar to the nest he had made under the desk at school. At school, he was shutting out the students and other prying eyes. Here, he was shutting out Snape.

Snape went back to the kitchen and fixed himself a cup of tea as he thought about his next step. He thought about how ironic it was that the master strategist was planning a strategy for dealing with a child. If he was still the cold, calculating Snape of Harry's memory, he would simply go in there and demand that he do as he was asked, or Obliviate the bad memories altogether. Obliviating him sounded good right now. Just forget everything except this new and improved version of their relationship.

If Harry had closed the link, Snape was not going to be able to talk to him that way. There was no guarantee that he would listen if Snape spoke out loud. But the only alternative was to do nothing, and Snape could not sit and do nothing. Too much rested on Harry regaining his memories. He had to help Harry recover so that wizards everywhere would have their savior back. He had to bring him back from his second childhood so he could finish preparing to defeat Voldemort. He had to do this before Voldemort discovered that Harry was entirely vulnerable right now. He only needed to think of what to say. That was the most difficult part. What could he say to this child Harry to help him see a truth he could understand? He sighed wearily and finished the tea. Trying the link, he still found it solidly closed.

He went to the bedroom and sat down on the bed. Harry was still inside the den he had fashioned. Snape lay down on the bed and started talking.

"I realize you are very upset right now. I know you are confused." He waited, either for Harry to respond or for his own inspiration for what to say next. "I _am_ your friend, Harry. The memories you saw do not show that, but I am. I'm going to tell you some things that will be hard for you to understand. But these things are very important, so I need you to listen. You don't have to answer. Just listen."

"You are fifteen years old. Not seven. Your mind believes you are seven because of the bad things done to you by your family. These bad things are also the reason you don't speak out loud." He paused to let Harry absorb what he had said, and to gather his thoughts again.

"Before you were hurt, you and I did not always get along. We had begun to finally trust one another because we had this ability to speak together in our minds, to feel what the other was feeling. We were beginning to be friends."

"Once you were hurt, you became like a small child again, and you have forgotten what you knew as a teenager. You forgot that you were a wizard. You forgot all the mean words that were spoken between us. You needed a friend. You needed someone who could hear you when your words didn't work." He thought that maybe using Harry's description of his inability to speak might help.

"I told you that I would not leave you. I told you that friends would not leave friends who are sad. I told you that I think you are good. All of that is the truth." He stopped again to see if Harry might answer, even if it was to disagree.

"The memories you saw of us were also true. When you first came to Hogwarts, I did not like you. There were many reasons, none of which are important right now. I treated you badly and I was wrong to do it. I know about your family and how you were treated by them. It changed my mind about you and changed the way I feel about you." He looked over at the tent and thought he saw a bit of movement inside. "People can change, Harry. You changed me. You gave me a chance to be something I never hoped to be. You made me a better person."

Snape sighed. "Harry, I know this is hard for you to understand. But you _are_ getting better. You are getting your memories back, and you have started using your magic again. There are going to be a lot of changes for you to deal with. I do want to help you. I do still want to be your friend, and I want you to be my friend. I hope you are listening. I'm going to sleep now, and you should too. But if you need to talk, if you want to talk, I'm right here."

He sighed again and decided he had said more than enough. What if it was too much for him to take in? What if he hadn't understood a thing he had said? What if it made him worse?

During the night, Snape heard Harry whimper a few times, but when he attempted to probe through the link he was pushed away. He finally fell into a fitful sleep, knowing that Harry was not sleeping well either.

They got ready for school silently the next morning. Snape was working hard to keep his old impatience and irritation at bay. The insufficient sleep had shortened his temper and he was sure that if he let Harry see it it would not bring them any closer to a resolution. He watched as Harry put miniaturized Prongs in his pocket before they walked out the door. Harry had wordlessly held out the toy for Snape to reduce, just as they had been doing every day. Snape had wanted to make Harry to try it, but thought that this was probably not an ideal time to force him to do magic.

Harry went immediately under the desk. As Snape reviewed the class for their coming finals, he became very glad that the teacher's desk was at the back of the classroom with the students facing away from it. As he was pacing between the tables, he happened to look up and see a book come up off the surface of the desk, hover a moment, and then gently float over the edge and down under to Harry. Snape rolled his eyes in irritation. He knew that irritation should be directed at himself. He had not thought to remind Harry not to try magic in this Muggle setting. He tried to contact him through the link and found it still closed. He hoped that Harry wouldn't try anything else before he could give him a verbal warning at lunchtime.

Much to his relief, nothing else levitated around the desk as the morning passed. Once the students had been dismissed for lunch, Snape bent down to look under the desk at Harry.

"Let's go to lunch."

Green eyes looked solemnly at him. After a few moments when Snape began to wonder if he would have to be insistent, Harry crawled out and stood up. He pointed a finger under the desk and Prongs came into his hand immediately. Snape narrowed his eyes.

"Harry, you cannot use magic here. We are among Muggles and it is forbidden to use magic where they might see." Harry looked at him blankly, and Snape was not certain that Harry understood him. It was either that or he was still choosing to ignore him. Hoping it was the latter, he led the way out of the school and down the street to the hot dog stand. Handing Harry his food, they walked to the park. Instead of sitting down beside Snape, Harry took his food and sat in the swing, awkwardly looping his arms around the chains to hold on as he ate. Snape watched him finish and throw his trash away. Expecting to see him start swinging, he was surprised to see him simply sit in the swing and look at his feet. He looked to be deep in thought as he barely moved, his toes dragging in the gravel.

When Snape stood up to go, Harry stood and came to stand beside him. For a moment, he locked eyes with him before quickly dropping his gaze to the ground. Snape got a flicker of the confusion, hurt, hope, and anxiety before Harry snuffed it out. As they walked back to the school, he said quietly, "I do not hate you. The past is past. I hope we will move on to the present and look to the future."

There was not any indication that Harry believed him. He was under the desk the moment they returned to the classroom.


	34. Chapter 35

_Warning! This chapter contains violence that may be disturbing to some._

**Chapter 35: Muggle Madness**

Harry maintained his silence with Snape. Snape would try the link, and finding it closed, he would speak aloud. Harry would sometimes look at him when he asked a question, but he never answered, leaving Snape to guess what his response most likely was. Snape found this extremely irritating. There were many times that he was glad Harry was not open to his thoughts, because he would have been sure Snape hated him. It took everything in him not to rant at him when Harry looked at him with accusing green eyes.

Then he would remember how long he himself had held a grudge against James Potter. Worse, he had taken out the bitterness on Harry. Who was he to be offended at Harry's lack of trust now, when he had every reason to withhold it? Harry had honest reasons for disliking Snape. Snape had not had any reasonable excuse to treat Harry as despicably as he had.

He thought of the first prophecy often. Was this break in their relationship the hostility and enmity that it spoke of? If it was, then the prophecy also said that this part of their relationship would end with them finding friendship again.

Dumbledore paid frequent visits after he heard about Harry beginning to remember. Harry would sit and stare at him when he came, but never quite allowed eye-to-eye contact. Dumbledore would carry on easy one-sided conversations with the boy until Snape was ready to throw him back to Hogwarts through the floo.

They were sitting in the living room of the flat one evening. Snape was writing the final examination for the chemistry class. Harry was sitting in the floor, a book open in his lap. Since the events at the Burrow, he had abandoned story books and novels in favor of Snape's own books. Tonight, he was reading a Potions text. It was a seventh-year level. Without being able to talk to him, Snape didn't know if Harry really understood what he read, or if it was simply the book he had chosen to pick up. Dumbledore took some initiative and asked.

"Harry, that's a very advanced book you're looking at. If you have questions, I'm sure Severus would be happy to explain things to you." He looked at Harry as if he expected him to come right out with a verbal comment. The fact that he didn't did not seem to bother him. He went on, "Potions is quite similar in some respects to the chemistry Severus is teaching the Muggles. Do you see how they compare?"

Snape thought that if he were Harry, he would have screamed out loud just to get the old man to shut up. He threw this thought at Dumbledore when he caught his eye. Dumbledore chuckled. "If Harry does scream at me to shut up, I'll count my efforts as having been successful."

Harry frowned and looked up. He glanced from one to the other, eyes narrowed as if deliberating what Dumbledore had said. Snape thought that he must be wondering about how Dumbledore knew what Snape had been thinking. He took the chance that it was and said, "Albus and I have a sort of connection, too. Ours is one that we had to work to develop. We can communicate without verbal speech, but we must have eye contact to do so." Harry had looked back down at the book, but Snape could see that he wasn't really reading. His look of concentration was on the words that he had spoken. Snape wondered what he was thinking and wished he would look up long enough for him to get a quick look into his eyes. Harry looked up as he thought that and Snape knew at once that he had heard it. Startled by that, Snape thought,

'_You are hearing me in your head, even if you are not letting me hear you, aren't you?'_

Harry's mouth tightened. He looked at Snape in a way that almost looked like the teenage Harry. Then it was wiped away as Harry looked back down at the book.

Snape looked at Dumbledore. "I had thought that his ability to Occlude would be compromised after all this. I was wrong. He has been Occluding me, and yet he has been hearing everything I think." He looked down at Harry. "We will have to talk about how wrong it is to invade someone's mind without their knowledge. The eavesdropping into someone's thoughts when they believe their thoughts to be private is not something that is done in polite wizard circles."

"Well," Dumbledore said enthusiastically, "it's good that he has been able to successfully Occlude you. It does mean that you won't be starting from nothing when you begin lessons again. Perhaps Voldemort will not have an advantage after all."

Harry jerked his head up at the name. His expression was one that was at once fearful, and yet unsure of why. Snape felt deep irritation at Dumbledore for bringing it up. To Harry, he said, "We would have discussed that as you regained more of your memories. The Dark Lord is definitely someone you will want to Occlude from your mind. We had been working on that before your injuries. Albus is correct that you are much further along in your ability to Occlude than we had thought. That is a very good thing."

Throughout the evening, Snape and Dumbledore continued their own conversations, each of them now aware that Harry heard more than just their spoken words. There were two questions now; did Harry understand what he was hearing; and was he remembering more than they thought?

Final exams were set for a Friday and Snape spent had spent the week before in reviews, hoping that even the slowest of the students might make a passing score. Most of them were doing quite well, in particular Julia and the other two friends of William Archer. Once he had been expelled, they seemed to find it easier to concentrate and learn the material.

Snape had been hopeful that Harry would communicate with him again, once they were both aware that Harry had been listening all the while. But Harry had remained stubbornly silent to Snape in all ways. Knowing that Harry knew what he had been thinking had forced Snape to adopt Occlumency in order to keep him from feeling any more of the frustration and irritation of the Potions Master. Snape did not like doing this; what if Harry did try to speak to him and found him closed to the attempt? Snape could not have said why the idea of being unavailable to Harry was distressing to him.

Snape was looking forward to an end to this summer school business. He was eagerly anticipating being back in his Potions lab, brewing his normal elixirs and draughts. He also thought that perhaps it was time to get Harry back to Hogwarts. They had avoided magical environments when it was obvious that it had distressed Harry. But he had been using the Floo with Snape, and had exhibited those extraordinary wandless bits of magic. He had done well being at the Burrow. Being in the castle might just be the push required to restore his full memory.

On the day of the exam, Harry had made his usual hiding spot under the desk. Snape had reminded him that this was a test day and that they might be late getting to lunch. The plan was to finish all aspects of the exam before releasing the students for a final time. Harry had stared at a spot over Snape's shoulder. With a deep sigh, Snape hoped that he had understood that he might well be hungry, but he would have to wait for the trip to the park and the hot dog stand.

Most of the morning passed quickly as the students bent over their papers. A few had finished, and Snape wanted them to wait for the rest, so the practical portion could be done as a class.

He was pacing the aisles, watching closely that each student had their attention only on their own papers, when he felt the tug at his sleeve. Startled, he whirled about, ready to bark at whatever student had left their seat. Harry stood there. His expression was at once fearful and anxious, and Snape thought at first that it was a reaction to Snape's own reaction. Harry opened his mouth as if to speak, and his expression changed to one of deep frustration when no sound emerged. Snape glared around at the curious students. They rarely saw Harry for more than a few moments. Harry cast an apprehensive look towards the door and pulled on Snape's sleeve again. He was trying to pull him away from the door. Snape opened up his end of their link and immediately heard Harry's terrified voice,

'_He's coming! He's so angry … he has something shiny and he's going to hurt you!'_

Snape grabbed him by the shoulders and stared down into his face, eyes narrowed.

'_Who?' _

'_That mean boy – William! He's coming in! You have to hide!'_

Snape resisted the continued pulling that Harry was still giving him as they stood there. The students around them were beginning to whisper at the strange silent exchange that was apparently going on. Snape gave Harry a firm shake. Harry snapped his attention back to Snape's face. Snape locked his eyes on Harry's.

'_Show me. I know you can.'_

Harry started to shake his head, but then a look of surprise came across his face. With a burning intensity, he returned Snape's stare. Snape saw what Harry saw; William, a knife hidden in his hand, making a stealthy entrance into the outer school doors. Snape felt what Harry was feeling, and he was getting the full benefit of the malevolent emotions fueling William Archer. Snape knew in an instant that it was real. Somehow, Harry was able to be a conduit to this raw sensation. Harry was desperate to get Snape out. Snape knew that he had to protect the students first. He shook Harry again,

'_We have to make sure they are safe. He will hurt whoever he can get to, not just me.'_ He looked at the door and back at Harry. _'Can you lock the door, without them seeing? I can't use my wand.' _

Harry turned to the door and with a small nod of his head, Snape heard the lock tumblers click into place. Snape looked around at the baffled students. He drew himself up to his fullest, most intimidating stance. His eyes fell on Julia. When the doorknob began to rattle and they all heard an angry bellow from outside, she paled.

"William," she whispered.

Snape looked around at the single window set high in the wall. Striding over, he pulled a table over and easily stepped on top of it. The window was still out of reach for him, if he was to avoid using magic. He looked back at the students. They were now standing and backing away from the door where an enraged William was banging on it and cursing loudly.

"You can't fail me, you b! A dead man can't fail anybody! Open this door, you coward! Are you scared? You'd better be!"

Snape held out a hand to Julia. "Come on. You're small enough to fit through the window and light enough for me to lift up while you open it."

She was frozen, her eyes wavering from the door and back up to Snape. Snape glared fiercely. "Now!" She jumped at the harshness of his voice, but she quickly moved over and gave him her hand. Snape effortlessly pulled her up, and before she could protest he had turned her to face the window and boosted her up. "Open it and get out. Get help, but tell them not to approach William. He is armed."

The door began to throw off splinters of wood as William began to kick it viciously.

Harry was standing exactly where he had been when he locked it, eyes riveted to the door. Snape jumped down from the table and came to stand beside him. He spoke silently, _'I want you to stay back if he comes in. Get behind me.'_

Harry looked up at him and Snape was surprised at the furious frown he saw. Harry shook his head at Snape and merely returned his gaze to the door. The door appeared to be holding, but William sounded like he was just getting started. The cursing of Snape continued, and he began to rage against his friends as well, ranting at how they had abandoned him in favor of school, raging against their disloyalty to him.

Snape looked around the room and then motioned to the boys that stood there. "Get these tables moved up against the door." When they looked at him in hesitation, he snarled, "Move!"

Harry turned to the familiar commanding voice. This was the man who had tormented his existence from the moment he set foot in Hogwarts. Hogwarts … yes, he knew what that was … his school. He had been going to a school for the study of magic. He was a wizard.

Harry looked hard at Snape. This was bizarre; what was he doing in Muggle clothes? He should know this … Harry put a hand on his forehead where a dull ache had started. What was that pounding noise? He looked around to focus on a door, from which long slivers of wood were now sticking out at odd angles. As he watched, the door shook on its hinges. Boys were shoving tables up against it and then more tables up against them. He looked back at Snape.

'_This must be some weird dream,'_ he thought to himself. '_This isn't Hogwarts for sure, and these aren't witches and wizards, because they certainly wouldn't be trying to bar the door with tables when a blocking spell would likely do it.'_

Snape's eyes widened in surprise as he whipped his head around to look at Harry. "Harry?" he said, as if he wasn't sure. The Occlumency must have dropped. Snape could hear all the confusion about what was real, unreal, where he was, and what was going on.

Harry raised his eyebrows and his shoulders and nodded, as if saying, "Yeah, of course it's me." He wondered at the relieved look that Snape gave him, before their attention was brought back to the door.

With a resounding bang, the door left the frame in pieces. Sirens could be heard coming closer, but the hallway beyond the panting, wild-eyed William was empty. He jumped atop the tables that stood in the way, prowling back and forth like a caged cat, as he glared at the people in the classroom. A locked blade knife was in his hand and he waved it around to catch the light. His eyes searched the group until they fell on Snape.

"There he is, the great teacher. Hiding among his students. A coward and a persecutor." Snape stepped forward, his entire bearing formidable and threatening. If the boy weren't deranged, he would be the one who was terrified. Harry thought that the guy must be seriously disturbed to be speaking like that to Snape, of all people.

The students crowded close together and as far away from the doorway as possible. Snape glanced at Harry as he moved toward the boy on the table. "Harry, move back with the others." When Harry didn't move, Snape snarled, "Do not choose this time to test my tolerance. Move back. Now!"

Harry slowly began to do as Snape demanded, but his mind still seemed foggy, as if this was not reality. While the surroundings seemed familiar, the situation was anything but.

William found a target when Snape addressed Harry. "Poor retard," he scathed sarcastically. "It must be so hard to be saddled with a mindless idiot when you're a great and powerful teacher."

Harry looked around to see who the boy was referring to. Everyone was staring at him. As Harry stood there trying to piece all this together, William jumped lightly down to the floor. The knife in his hand was never still, constantly weaving back and forth as William held it. Several girls shrieked when he landed on the floor before them. Snape easily stepped between William and the students.

Harry was still off to the side, and when Snape moved between William and the students, it left an opening for him to reach Harry. In a flash, he had leapt at Harry and grabbed him around the neck with his left arm, pulling him harshly into his chest as a shield. His right hand held the knife to Harry's throat.

Snape instinctively moved forward towards them and William tightened his grip on Harry, pushing the tip of the blade into the flesh of his throat. Snape halted as Harry grimaced in pain.

'_Harry, don't move!'_

'_Yeah, I figured that one out, Professor. Thanks.'_

Snape frowned at the sarcasm that dripped from the mind voice. This was not the small boy Harry, but the teenager. He spoke to the clearly volatile William, "Mr. Archer, do not make things more difficult for yourself. Coming in here and making threats is one thing, but it is quite another to take a hostage. Release Harry."

William laughed. "Know what? I don't believe I will. I think I'll just keep him right here where I've got him. You'll probably keep thinking you can get him away. The police will be here and they will think they can talk me into letting him go. But guess what? I have nothing to lose anymore. You took it all away when you took away my chance to graduate. My job sacked me, and it was your fault, again, because you kicked me out of school." He laughed again and pushed the knife point in deeper; a thin line of blood beginning to run down Harry's neck. "Since there's nothing to lose, I may as well enjoy the little time I've got left. I'll let you all hope that all will end well. I'll let you think I'm wavering. But in the end, I'll kill him anyway, just before they kill me."

Snape felt his stomach drop. How was he supposed to protect Harry, get him away from this insane boy, without the use of magic? The ministry would surely understand the circumstances, but it would be difficult to make sure everyone was properly memory-charmed afterwards. He slowly reached for his wand.

William saw the movement and pressed harder with the knife. Harry closed his eyes. Snape reached out through their link.

'_Harry? I'm trying –'_

'_I know. I know you can't use magic here.'_

'_But _you_ can.'_

'_What are you talking about?'_

'_You can do wandless magic.'_

'_No I can't –'_

'_Yes, you can. You just locked the door with your mind. You've made Prongs fly with just your mind.'_

Snape saw the increased confusion in Harry's face battling with the anxiety of the situation and the pain of the blade in his throat. Harry's voice faltered.

'_I – I don't know what to do …'_

'_Look in my eyes. I'll give you the spell. Say it in your own mind, focusing on the knife.'_

William had noted that the two were staring at each other without word. "This is really touching. I'm glad you care so much for this kid, Mr. Snape. It makes it that much sweeter for me when I do this." He sliced the knife across Harry's throat. So much blood poured forth that Snape was sure that an artery had been cut.

"Harry!" he yelled out loud. Through the link, he yelled, '_EXPELLIARMUS_!'

Harry felt the gush of blood and the weakness indicating a threatening injury. Then, in his head, Snape yelled the disarming spell. Harry focused his energy on the knife and repeated the charm.

The knife flew from William's hand to clatter across the floor, landing in front of Snape. He quickly placed a foot on it and sent it skidding even further away. William shouted in surprise, releasing Harry as he did so. From outside the door, several large bodies hurtled in, policemen who realized that William had been disarmed and took advantage of it to finish taking him down.

Harry's hands were on his throat and he pulled them away to stare at their redness. How did there get to be so much blood in such a short time? He felt the warmth of the new flow and it cooled at the room temperature. What an interesting sensation. He felt the world tilting sideways and all sound was becoming a roar, indistinct, in his head. He looked up and saw Snape coming towards him in slow motion, his face a mask of terror. Terror? Not Snape. He would never have that look on his face. He was the one who _caused_ terror, not the one who ever felt terror. Harry laughed at the thought of Snape being scared of anything, the effort causing fresh red bubbles to issue from the darker line across his neck.

Snape caught Harry as he began sliding bonelessly to the floor. He held him close to himself as all around them there was the chaos of police subduing William, students screaming, tables being shoved back away from the doorway to allow access to the room.

Wimberly came running past a policeman attempting to bar any more entrance or exit from the room. "I'm Headmaster here! Let me in! I need to see to my students!"

He got in and stopped short upon seeing Snape standing there with a bloody Harry. His face turned green and the look of revulsion caused Snape to jerk himself out of his immobility.

He sneered at Wimberly, "Your students are over there," he inclining his head in that direction and then turning his face down to look at Harry. He lowered himself to the floor and laid Harry down. Already, a pool had begun to form beneath them. Harry stared up at him, a question in the green eyes.

'_What's happening? I feel cold and warm all at the same time …'_

'_Be still.'_

'_Yeah. I think I can do that…'_

'_You must be back. Only the teenager Harry could sound so arrogant and sarcastic.'_

'_Have I been somewhere? Right now I'd like to go take a nap …_

'_You will not. Do not go to sleep.'_

_Sorry, Professor … don't think I can help it …'_

Snape placed his hands across Harry's neck; a gesture that looked like he was attempting to choke out what life was left in him. He felt the surge of healing energy as it coursed from his fingers and into Harry. The thought that he was helping prevent further blood loss calmed him and he lifted his head to look around the room.

Only a few seconds had passed. The room was still in an uproar. William was shouting obscenities at the many policemen subduing him. Wimberly was standing in front of the students, a hand on a hysterical girl's shoulder. A paramedic was rushing into the room towards them. Laying a case down beside them, he briskly began to try and take Snape's hands away from Harry's throat.

"Let's have a look …" and then seeing the amount of blood on Harry, on Snape, and pooling beneath where they sat, he said, "Better keep your hands in place. Just don't prevent him from getting air while you keep pressure on the vessels at the sides of his neck."

Snape gave him a glare at that, but the man was too busy to notice. He had pulled a roll of gauze out of the case and was trying to decide the best way to proceed. Snape knew that the healing energy was doing its job and with a few more minutes, Harry would not be pouring what was left of his blood out onto the floor. He looked into Harry's face then and saw that he was looking up at him. His eyes were slightly unfocused and he made as if to talk. Snape shook his head.

"Don't move, Harry. You'll be alright now."

The link was open and Harry spoke.

'_You've saved my life before … I never can figure out why you do it when you dislike me so much.'_

'_I do not dislike you.'_

'_You've always had a funny way of showing how much you don't dislike me.'_

'_I admit that when you first arrived at Hogwarts I did not like you.'_

'_Just at first?'_

'_Are you deliberately trying to force me to admit my mistakes or do you truly not remember that we have had this conversation before?'_

'_Right now, I just feel like this is all fuzzy. Looks like I've been trouble – again – and you've come to the rescue – again. Same old story.'_

'_Quite,'_ Snape agreed. The healing had knitted the tissues beneath his fingers to the degree that he felt comfortable letting up on the pressure he had maintained.

The paramedic had been checking Harry's vital signs and he frowned at Snape. "I just checked this and it was dangerously low," he said, indicating the blood pressure cuff. "Now it's coming back up. It shouldn't do that until we get an intravenous line in and give him fluids and blood. He had almost bled out."

Snape narrowed his eyes. This would take some manoeuvering. "I believe that the blood loss may have appeared to be more than it was. He will be fine."

"How do you know that? You're not a doctor. You're not trained to know –"

"I know that he will be fine." Snape intoned firmly.

The paramedic looked skeptical. "Well, when we get him to the hospital and they assess him, we'll know for sure."

"He will not be going to the hospital." Snape looked into the man's eyes as he looked up in surprise at the statement. "I will take care of getting him the attention he needs. You will agree that it is the correct action to take."

The mild form of _Imperio_ worked at once and the man nodded. "Yes, of course. You may get him the attention he needs. Tell me what to do to assist you."

ooOooOooOooOooOooOooOooOooOooOooOoo

_A/N: I'm taking another opportunity to thank everyone who has been a faithful reader, welcome new readers, and thank everyone for taking the time to write a quick review. _

_At the risk of having a spoiler here, I want to assure you that Harry will come through his ordeal, yet again. He is the one the old saying speaks about: 'That which doesn't kill you makes you stronger.'_

_I realize now that this fic has taken a dark turn from where it started, and there may be others out there who are disappointed to see it do so. To you, I apologize. My Muse seems to have had a different direction in mind and I am along for the ride!_

_In the interest of safe-guarding impressionable youth, I have raised the rating and changed the genre category. But I am not naïve enough to believe that it will keep them from reading what they wish, if their parents don't monitor it closely. I can only hope that there are many out there who care about their children's (and teen's) reading habits to look over their shoulder and see what they have on their comp screen. Internet safety begins in each individual home, and is the responsibility of the adults in the household. Ratings are pretty meaningless when there is no real way to keep the higher rated material away from kids. That's the parent's job, and I applaud the ones who do it._

_Okay, I'm off my soapbox now…next chapter up soon._


	35. Chapter 36

**Chapter 36: It Feels Like Home**

The paramedic cleared away the crowd of onlookers once the police had taken a still cursing William away. He applied a new wad of gauze to the slash wound and then walked out with just a slightly confused expression.

Snape took out the Portkey Token he had been keeping in his pocket. After gathering Harry into his embrace, he activated it. They landed in the middle of the Hogwarts Hospital Wing, gaining a startled squeak from Madam Pomfrey.

Snape took two strides to the nearest bed and laid Harry on it. Pomfrey bustled over. "Well, what is it this time –" She halted at the sight of all the blood covering them both.

Snape barked, "Blood Replenishing Potion at once! I believe the wound is stabilized, but he has lost a massive amount of blood."

She hurried away to retrieve the potion, returning quickly. He held Harry upright while she poured the potion into his mouth. She then waved her wand over Harry. "The wound has been sealed, but it is still fragile. He will need at least a few more doses of Replenisher to make up the loss of blood." She looked at Snape, "I suppose I have that healing connection between the two of you to thank that he made it this far."

Snape gave her a nod of acknowledgement then looked back down at Harry. He removed his hand from Harry's throat. Taking out his own wand, he waved it over himself with a grimace, cleaning away the blood that had soaked his clothing. Pomfrey did the same for Harry and put him into clean pajamas. Together, they removed the bloody gauze around his throat. The slash was still raw-looking and seeping small droplets along its length. Pomfrey performed several healing spells and it looked better. She looked at Snape again. "He's almost had both the arteries and major veins severed. What in the world happened?"

"Call Albus and Minerva. I'll tell you all at once. Ask Albus to contact Shacklebolt and Tonks. I had to Imperio someone to get Harry here."

Pomfrey didn't argue, but hurried away to do as Snape asked.

Snape conjured a chair and sat down beside the bed. Leaning forward he laid a hand on the boy's forehead. Harry's body accepted more of the energy that only Snape could give. Even though he felt drained already, Snape felt a need to give Harry as much as he could. He whispered, "You're wrong, Harry. I didn't save you this time. You saved me. William was coming for me and you were doing your best to get me away from him." He brushed the hair away from the scar on Harry's forehead. "Are you really back?" he wondered, remembering how Harry had responded to him earlier.

Dumbledore and McGonagall hurried into the room. This was too familiar a scene, being at the bedside of one of these two after they had been grievously injured. They looked at Snape as he leaned over the bed containing Harry, and then looked at each other.

Dumbledore spoke quietly, "Tonks has gone to the school. She is the most familiar with its workings and can more easily put things to rights." He laid a hand on Snape's shoulder. "What happened, Severus?"

"The student I expelled, William Archer, he came to the school with a knife." Snape looked up at Dumbledore. "Harry felt him, saw him coming. Somehow, he could sense the evil intent. He alerted me and then he locked the door –"

"How did he do this?" Dumbledore questioned closely.

"He was able to lock the door with a mere nod of his head. Through Leglimency I was able to see what he sensed with William. One of the students went for help after I got her out the window." He paused, thinking about what had come next. "William broke down the door. He was able to get to Harry after I stepped in front of the students to protect them. He taunted me with killing Harry to get revenge for my having expelled him. Then he slashed Harry's throat." He looked grimly at the sleeping boy on the bed. Placing his head in his hands, he continued, "Oh, gods, the blood that poured out of him … I spoke into his mind for him to disarm William. After the knife was gone, he let Harry go. By that time, the authorities had arrived. I used our healing connection to stop the flow of his blood. Once I had Imperiused the medical Muggle, I was able to use the Portkey Token and bring him here."

Dumbledore realized that this was a very shortened version of events. "Is there more that you need to tell us?"

Snape looked up at him, "While all this was happening and Harry was speaking in my mind; it was as if the teenage Harry was speaking. It was as if the older Harry took the place of the small boy. He was confused about what was happening, and my insistence that he attempt non verbal wandless spells. But he obeyed my instruction without denying the magic."

"Is that Harry still within him now?"

"He has not spoken since we arrived."

Pomfrey spoke up. "At the risk of looking a fool again, when he does what I say isn't possible, he most likely will not be conscious until more doses of Blood Replenisher have a chance to work. He lost more than half of his own."

McGonagall sniffed at that, dabbing at her nose with a handkerchief. Dumbledore kept a hand on Snape's shoulder. Though Snape didn't show it, inside he was shaking with a rush of relief, exhaustion, and anger. Dumbledore squeezed the shoulder firmly, to offer his own kind of strength to the man.

After a few moments, Snape stood up. He had wiped any expression giving away emotion from his face. "I need to go back to the school. As competent as Tonks has proven herself to be, I am certain that my testimony will be required before it can be laid to rest. I also need to collect the exam papers." He held out the Portkey Token. "If I am needed immediately, I'm sure Albus can arrange for this to alert me?"

Dumbledore waved his hand over the token in Snape's palm. "It will warm to the touch if Poppy needs you back here."

Snape gave Harry one last look and then walked to the fireplace. He disappeared into the flames after calling for the flat.

The school had settled back down in the time Snape had been gone. He found Tonks and Wimberly in the Chemistry classroom, looking among all the papers that lay scattered across it, and gathering exam sheets. They looked up at Snape's entrance.

Tonks spoke quickly, giving Snape the cover story. "See, Mr. Wimberley? Mr. Snape would not be here if the boy's injury was so serious. I told you that the amount of blood you thought you saw was just due to all the excitement."

Snape looked at the floor where Harry had been and saw that the drying puddle was much smaller than it had actually been. He gave Tonks a small nod. "Yes, our own – doctor – has said as much. Apparently, blood has a way of spreading to appear like much more than it is. The wound was superficial."

He bent to help gather the papers. Once they were all in hand, he sifted through them, arranging them according to the class roster. Satisfied that they were all there, he turned to Wimberly. "I'll score these and return them as soon as possible. In light of the events of today, I feel that the students may be excused from the practical portion of the exam. I will give their final grade based upon classroom observation and this written exam."

Wimberly nodded. "Of course, of course. I'll be expecting them." He peered up at Snape closely. "I thought that the boy was dead, he looked so bad. How did you get him out of here?"

Snape glanced at Tonks before replying. "The paramedic saw that Harry was in no danger and he called our own doctor. During the melee, I was simply able to take Harry away to him without notice. As you recall, attention was rather fixed on Mr. Archer."

Wimberly nodded, but still looked at Snape suspiciously, as if he knew that this was somehow not the entire truth. "The police want a statement from you regarding him. They will want to know of the events leading up to his attack."

"Of course." Snape gave him a curt nod. "I'll take care of it immediately." With that, he turned on his heel and strode back out of the school, determined that he would never set foot in it again.

He walked quickly to the flat, where he magicked all of his and Harry's belongings into one carpet bag. He Flooed back to Dumbledore's office and put their belongings down for the time being.

Carrying the exam papers, he made his way back to the hospital wing. The sooner he got rid of all this Muggle business, the sooner he could focus on his own Potions Laboratory.

Once in the infirmary, he took a moment to gaze down at Harry's pale face. How many times could fate be tempted? How many times would this boy defy death? He had no super-human powers, other than being a wizard. He was not the most intelligent, all though he used what he knew and did it well. He was only a boy about whom a prophecy had been made. Was it such a strong prophecy that Harry would be protected by some unknown force until he had fulfilled it?

With a shake of his head and a sigh, Snape sat down and began to grade the exams, looking up often at the Boy Who Lived Yet Again.

Harry slept deeply for two days. Snape left his side to take the scored exams back to Wimberly and make an official statement to the Muggle authorities. A charmed 'Physician's Report' from St. Mungo's supplied them with the evidence that Harry's injuries were not as critical as had first been reported. William remained under arrest and was likely to stay there.

Snape was reviewing the materials that he needed before the start of term at Hogwarts when he felt Harry calling him.

'_Severus?'_

"I am here." He answered quickly. Harry was staring at him. He had called him Severus. Did that mean that the small boy was still there?

'_I'm sorry – I shouldn't have called you that, Professor. It just slipped out.'_

"You may not recall, but I gave you leave to do so," Snape assured him.

'_Well, Malfoy isn't going to be happy about that,' _Harry remarked.

"Let me restate that; you may call me Severus when we are alone. Not in the classroom or in front of other students." He looked at Harry sternly.

Harry nodded. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Snape put out his hand to stop him. "You have had quite an injury to your throat. As much as I would like to hear the sound of your real voice, it is inadvisable for you to attempt speech. Wait a while longer until you try."

Harry nodded. '_I'm not sure I can anyway. I'm not sure that I want to.'_

Snape narrowed his eyes in concern. "Please explain that."

'_I don't know if I can.' _ He shrugged. Frowning, he pulled himself up to a sitting position. He looked at Snape. _'Part of me wants to, but another part of me doesn't. I feel like there's something saying it would hurt too much, cause trouble or something, if I use words out loud.'_

Snape regarded him carefully before asking, "What do you remember of this summer?"

Harry looked surprised at the question and started to answer before he got another look of surprise on his face_. 'I don't think I remember anything.' _ Panic set in and he almost jumped from the bed before Snape moved over to sit on the edge and hold him in place.

"Harry, it's alright. I'm sure you will be able to remember and then it will all be clear."

'_How? How can I forget everything just like that?'_ he asked frantically.

Snape put a hand on his shoulder and bent his head to look into Harry's face. "Listen to me." He waited for Harry to look back at him. "Early in the summer, you were hurt. As a result, it seems that you regressed to a young child. That is most likely the source telling you that words can cause trouble. You have not spoken aloud since those events. It is just the events of the last few days that have you back to yourself." He waited for this information to be processed.

Harry looked down at the blanket covering his legs. Snape could feel the confusion and questions running through his mind_. 'But how will I remember then?'_

Snape tentatively put his arm around Harry's shoulder and felt him stiffen at the gesture. He released him after simply giving him a quick squeeze. "Perhaps in your dream state it will become clear. That seems to be where you feel safest expressing yourself."

Harry looked up at his teacher. Why did it feel so empty when that arm left his shoulders? He wanted it back now that it was gone, although it bothered him a great deal to feel like that. Snape read those confused feelings and put his arm back around the narrow shoulders. This time, Harry leaned against him. He half expected it to be uncomfortable, but instead, it felt right. It felt like … home.

'_You've been in my dreams with me before,'_ he stated, like it was a fact.

"Yes. I have been there."

'_Will you be there this time? I mean, in case I don't understand, you can explain it to me better.'_

"Yes. I will be there if that's what you want." After a few minutes, he gently pushed Harry until he was laying back down. "You need more rest. The dreams can come later. I'll get Madam Pomfrey to see if you need more Blood Replenisher, and she can give you more Dreamless Sleep potion as well."

In a short while, Harry was back to sleep. Pomfrey had given Harry another dose of Blood Replenisher and then the Dreamless Sleep. Snape sat and watched him. What would happen when Harry regained his memories? How would he feel about Snape then? As a child, he had trusted him blindly, and then rejected him upon finding out about their real relationship. As a teenager, they had begun a tenuous friendship, if that's what it could be called. Snape counted only Dumbledore as a true friend. Throughout his life there had been people he had called friend for short times; during school, in the service under the Dark Mark. Those people were either dead or not ones whom he wanted as friends any longer.

Harry had attempted to get him away from William when he saw him coming. Even though he had been angry enough, fearful enough of what Snape had been to him, he had acted as a friend would act. He had moved to save him. Snape sneered to himself; Harry was such a Gryffindor. All too ready to rush headlong into Merlin knew what, regardless of the consequences. But he could no longer find the arrogant, spoiled, self-absorbed brat he had once thought Harry was. Now he knew what a horrendous childhood he had really had. Now he knew that all the defiance and difficult behavior had been a defense for him; the only defense he knew how to make. He acted out of fearful bravery, because to do otherwise was not an option. In his deepest self, Snape could admit that the last few weeks had given him what he never hoped to have. He had been able to care for Harry because he had needed caring for so desperately. He had protected him, fed him, guided him, all because Harry had needed him to. He had never been needed in that capacity. Certainly, his skills were needed as Potions Master, both to the Light and to the Dark Lord. But his skills as a friend had never been sought. Until now. Until Harry.

The Hogwarts Express would be arriving in two weeks. Teachers had returned from holiday to prepare for classes and help ready the castle. They were all told about Harry so that they would not expect too much of him at first.

Harry found the delicate treatment irritating, but he didn't know how to get them to stop it, besides speak up, and he found he couldn't do that yet. He spent most of his time wandering the castle. Several times he had become lost and no matter how he tried to find familiar landmarks, he could not. Feeling foolish, he had called to Snape. Snape would come and get him from wherever he was and lead him back to recognizable territory, pointing out helpful landmarks to remember the next time. He thought that having to fetch him like that would irritate Snape, but he really didn't seem to mind.

This last time, he had broached the subject of dreaming. "Have you considered that if you integrate your memories, you might well be able to remember more of how to get around here?"

'_It seems weird that I can't remember where things are. I remember Hogwarts, and being a wizard, and my friends … why are there blank spots?'_

"I do not know. It most likely has to do with some psychological aspect of your injuries. That's why I ask if you might be ready to try dreaming as a means of piecing it all together."

Harry shrugged_. 'I guess I'm afraid that if it doesn't work, there won't be anything left to try. If I don't try, I won't have to face that.'_

"You realize that makes no sense." Snape stopped and looked down at Harry. Harry looked at him and then back down at his shoes. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans, looking like the small Harry in his glumness. Snape put a long finger under his chin, lifting it so that Harry met his eyes. "I did not mean that you should hear that in a negative way. I simply want you to see that your thought processes may be flawed at the moment. If you integrate your memories, or at least make the attempt, you may find that everything makes more sense."

Harry nodded, his expression still depressed. _'I've been thinking that I need to practice my magic, too.'_

"That should wait until when you speak aloud. Even though you may be quite able to do some of the simpler spells nonverbally, the more complex they are the more precise the incantation itself needs to be. The other teachers and I will find it easier to help you learn if we can hear what you are saying."

'_You can hear me. What if I can't speak? What if I don't find my words?'_ He looked at Snape as if he thought he might refuse to aid him.

Snape began walking again, slowly, so Harry would not think he was trying to avoid answering. "Once classes start, Harry, I will be teaching my own. I will not be able to be there for you during yours, to tell the other teachers what you are saying or thinking. There will be no way for them to determine that if your spell fails, it is due to a wrong phrase or inflection. The only way they will be able to know you get it is if you are able to perfectly perform the spell or charm and they see the results."

They continued walking back to the main part of the castle in silence. It was time for lunch and they entered the Great Hall. Before they sat down with the other teachers, Harry stopped. Looking up at Snape, he said, _'Tonight? Can we try the dream state thing tonight?'_

"Are you certain you are ready to try?"

'_What? First you want me to and now you don't?' _ Harry huffed in frustration.

Snape rolled his eyes in exasperation. "It's just that I want it to be something _you_ want. Don't do it because you think I want it, or Professor Dumbledore. Try it because _you_ want to try it."

The other teachers looked up when they heard Snape's voice. They had not become used to hearing Snape speaking at such length, so civilly, and to Harry Potter at that. Together with hearing only one side of their conversations, it was always a scene of interest to them. Harry noticed their perusal and looked back up at Snape.

'_Is it alright for me to tell you how much I hate how they treat me? Like some invalid?'_

"They are rightfully concerned about you as you have had a difficult summer. They are attempting to be – accommodating." Snape explained in a gentle tone of voice.

Harry rolled his eyes as he felt waves of disbelieving delight come off the teachers as they listened to Snape speak to Harry nicely.

'_Yeah, well they think you're getting soft, the way you talk to me. If you felt what I'm feeling from them, you'd probably sick up.'_

Snape narrowed his eyes menacingly at the other teachers until they lowered their own to their plates. He had been in the habit of speaking aloud to Harry to encourage him to respond the same way. The knowledge that in doing this he had damaged his dark reputation was irksome. He looked back at Harry and answered through the link, _'Thank you for telling me this. I will have to resume my former attitudes around them before the other students arrive. It will not do for anyone to feel they can get by with thinking I am anything but what they have always known.'_

'_I know. Does that mean that you'll treat me as you always have? Back to the usual insults and put downs of me and my friends?'_ Harry looked up at him, and Snape could feel that there might be a doubt in him that Snape had been honest in his caring for Harry, if he could so easily go back to his former way of treatment.

Snape put a hand on his shoulder, his grip reassuring, _'My feelings toward you have gone through great changes over the summer. I admit that it is difficult to reconcile these with how I am used to behaving. It won't be easy for either of us, but I do not want you to expect special treatment from me. I will endeavour to treat you and your friends fairly, but I cannot promise that old habits will not surface.'_

'_Does that mean that the black bat from the dungeons of hell is back?'_ Harry asked lightly.

Snape narrowed his eyes at Harry, and with a mocking quirk of his eyebrow and lip he whirled away in his customary flurry of billowing black robes. Oh how he had missed being able to do that during the summer! He took his seat silently and looked up to see Harry grinning at him.

'_That was very convincing. Now they all think you hate me again.'_

Snape looked around to see the teacher's eyes moving back and forth between him and Harry; worry, unease, and question all around. He looked up at Harry. _'Good,'_ was his only response.

Harry took his own seat and filled his plate, ignoring the looks of confusion and concern on his behalf. For now, it was enough that he knew Snape meant well, even if he snapped at some point in the future.

**_Happy Valentines Day!_** I love you all, faithful readers, and new! I'll post the rest of the story very quickly now, as **logicalquirk **has given me the best Valentines gift by sending the last chapters back! Thank you all for the reviews! More would be a great Valentines gift from you to me…"hint"!!


	36. Chapter 37

_A/N: Here's another Valentines Day gift for my readers! Many of you have asked if I'm almost finished with this fic…yes, the end to this one is drawing near. Many have asked if there will be a sequel…yes, I am writing it now and I am up to Ch.9. Some have commented on the odd way the chapters are numbered…I have reviewed them and everything is there! The sequence is correct, it just looks wonky. I had trouble with trying to edit and when I pushed the wrong button a chapter was deleted. The only way to get it back was to combine 18 and 19. Anyway, nothing is missing, the numbering is just wrong. If I delete the story to start over with posting I will lose all your wonderful reviews and I do not want to do that! So enjoy these last few chapters! The sequel will begin soon after this is complete!_

**Chapter 37: Dobby**

Harry didn't ask to try dreaming that night. Instead, he went to the Astronomy Tower to think. The stars were very bright and, for a while, he lay on the cool stones, naming constellations, reviewing patterns, cycles and phases. He thought that he remembered all that he should about it. There didn't seem to be any blanks, but if he didn't know it, he wouldn't know it, would he? He groaned into the link_, 'Severus, my thinking is flawed again … how will I know if I'm not remembering things like I should, if I can't remember in the first place?'_

His quest met with silence, and he stretched his senses out again. _'Severus?'_ Had he shut Harry out on purpose? Harry sat up and frowned as he concentrated harder. Pain flared in his left forearm and he immediately felt his scar begin to throb. He closed the link from his end as fast as he could and the pain in his arm diminished. Drawing his legs up, he put his head on his knees and began Occluding. It took several tries to get it right and he realized that he was way out of practice at doing it. Had he not needed it for a long time? Is that why it felt so hard to do?

The door to the Tower sprang open and Dumbledore was there with McGonagall right behind him. Harry looked at him in question. It took Dumbledore a few moments to see that Harry was alright. He came all the way out onto the tower and dropped down beside him. "Severus has been summoned."

Harry nodded and held out his arm in mute acknowledgment. Dumbledore looked at him with concern. "Have you been able to Occlude it?"

Harry held up a hand with his index finger and thumb about an inch apart. Dumbledore understood that Harry had done what he could to dampen the feelings but still felt a little of it. He asked again, "And your scar? Is it hurting as well?"

Harry nodded again. Dumbledore held up a vial. "This is a sedative draught. If you need to, we can use it to let you sleep until Severus is back."

Harry shook his head. He had a vague memory of a time in the past when he would have loved to sleep through severe pain in his head. It was apparently one of those memories that would only be complete with integration. Worry about Snape bloomed larger as he thought about what Dumbledore was saying. He looked at Dumbledore and up at McGonagall. Dumbledore stood up and extended his hand. "Let's at least get you to the Hospital Wing." At Harry's frown, he explained, "Last time Severus was summoned, he was injured. You felt what he was feeling and it was a very intense night for you both. I hope it doesn't come to it, but if you should need sedating, or if Severus comes back injured again, it would be best if you were already there."

Harry tried hard to grasp a fleeting image of being in the Hospital Wing with Snape, but it slipped away as quickly as it had appeared in his mind. He took hold of the offered hand and heaved himself to his feet, more unsteady than he had realized. Dumbledore took one side and McGonagall the other as they made their way down the long stairway and through endless corridors to the Hospital Wing.

Harry didn't much feel like climbing into a hospital bed. Instead, he paced the floor, looking at the paintings that lined the walls. He tried to avoid the following eyes of Dumbledore, McGonagall and Pomfrey. As they watched him move back and forth across the floor, he became more and more irritable. Finally, he looked at them and threw his arms up in a gesture that clearly asked them, 'What?'

McGonagall was the one who spoke and she did so apologetically and softly. "We're sorry, Harry. After the last time, we just worry about you so." She looked at Dumbledore. "Perhaps a game of Wizards Chess could get our minds off Severus?"

Dumbledore promptly conjured a chess set onto a small table in the center of the floor. Harry looked at her in disbelief for a moment before shrugging. Sitting down at the table, he dropped a heavy head into a propped-up hand and made the first move.

His scar intermittently made painful throbs that he rubbed at absently as they played. He made a bigger effort at Occluding when that happened, in spite of a strong desire to let up on it. A part of him wanted to see what was going on at the gathering of Death Eaters. Was Severus okay? Were they merely planning, or were they involved in committing atrocities?

Harry lost the match quickly, but that was hardly a surprise, since his mind was not on the game at all. Dumbledore watched him as he went about resetting the pieces on the board. He reached a hand over to still Harry's. "He will return before morning. He always does." Harry fixed him with eyes that looked tired. Dumbledore gave his hand a pat and withdrew.

The next game ended just as quickly as the first. Harry looked down at the chess pieces as Dumbledore's knight lanced through his queen. He began to set the board up again. He was almost finished when the Floo made a loud whoosh. All eyes looked up to see Snape standing there.

He still wore his Death Eater robe and carried the mask in his hand. His face was thunderous and menacing. Harry stood up, ashen, and started forward before hesitating.

Snape looked at Dumbledore and snarled, "I will speak with you in my quarters."

"Of course, Severus." Dumbledore stood and moved to the fireplace.

Snape held out a forbidding hand to Harry. "Not now." Harry stopped short, question in his eyes. When he took another step, Snape bit out, "What part of 'not now' did you not understand, Potter? I said not now and that's what I meant. Go to bed." He stood tall and threatening on the hearth, every inch the old Snape, the black bat from the dungeons of hell. He glared at Harry with eyes filled with malice.

With that, he stepped back into the grate, yelling for his quarters. Dumbledore gave Harry an apologetic glance before following. Harry stood there, blinking back sudden tears. After the flames died down, he swiped at his eyes furiously before the tears could roll.

McGonagall put an arm around his shoulders after walking up beside him. "He's always like that when he returns, Harry. Remember where he's been, after all. He'll give his report to Albus and then be back to his usual self." To herself, she hoped that his usual self would be decent to Harry, as the Snape she saw was as surly as he had always been before this past summer. Patting Harry's shoulder, she finished, "Come, I'll walk you up to your room."

Harry lay in his bed for a long time, careful to leave his end of the link open, hoping Snape would call to him after he'd finished whatever conversation he had to have with Dumbledore. He waited until early dawn began to lighten the room beyond his drawn bed curtains. He waited. Snape never called.

He must have fallen asleep finally, because the next thing he knew, a squeaky voice was beside him.

"Master Harry Potter is about to be missing his breakfast, sir."

Harry woke with a start that sent a strange creature flying off the bed. He sat up and stared for a moment. '_Dobby?' _He recalled that this was a House elf, and that Dobby was pretty excitable.

Floppy ears waggled as the house elf vigorously nodded his head. He jumped back on the bed throwing his skinny arms around Harry. "You is remembering Dobby, sir! You is remembering! They said you might not, but you is!"

Harry grinned. _'Of course, I could never forget you, Dobby.'_ Then a frown crossed his face. _'Can you hear me? No one else but Severus can hear me …'_

"Oh yes! House elves can hears their masters no matter how they call them, sir. We needs to hear so we can do master's bidding at any time!" He tugged on Harry's hand. "Get up, Master Harry, breakfast will soon be gone and you will be hungry!"

'_That's okay. You could always bring me something.' _ Harry wasn't looking forward to going to the Great Hall and seeing that awful, hateful look on Snape's face again. He shivered at the memory of it from the night before.

"Headmaster Dumbledore was saying Harry Potter might say that, sir. He says to tell you, you is to come anyway. You is to come and eat breakfast with everyone else." Dobby pulled on his arm again and Harry reluctantly got to his feet. Dobby waited until Harry got dressed and then walked with him down to the Great Hall.

Harry looked at him_. 'Dobby, you don't have to walk with me do you? You could just pop back down.'_

"Oh no, Master Harry Potter! Dobby is staying right with you. Headmaster Dumbledore is saying you might need me to hear what Harry Potter is needing. Dobby wants to help Harry Potter and Dobby will stay with him, I says to him."

Harry shrugged. He hadn't thought about a House Elf being able to hear him when he spoke in his mind. But then, he hadn't even remembered their existence until he had seen Dobby. He looked sideways at the creature hopping along beside him. Dobby smiled toothily up at him, apparently very eager to be of service to him. Dobby didn't leave him until they reached the Great Hall, and then he looked at Harry happily.

"When you needs Dobby, you just think my name. Dobby will be there in a snap to help Master Potter."

Harry thought, _'Could you call me Harry?'_ Dobby started to shake his head and Harry added, _'I need for you to call me Harry.'_

Dobby smiled and nodded his head. He snapped his fingers and was gone with a pop.

Harry looked around the Great Hall and saw that he was the center of attention. He flushed and ducked his head as he took a seat.

Dumbledore spoke to him, "I trust that you are comfortable allowing Dobby to help you, should you have need?"

Harry looked up at him, and then around the table. Snape was absent. Instead of answering Dumbledore with a nod, he looked at the place at which Snape would normally sit and then gave him a questioning lift of his eyebrow. Dumbledore looked at Harry over the tops of his glasses.

"Professor Snape finds himself unable to be here at this time. I believe that you have found that you can speak to Dobby just as you speak to him?"

Harry nodded. Dumbledore nodded in a satisfied way and turned his attention to his plate and to Professor McGonagall. Harry felt very unsatisfied. Why was Snape unable to be here? Where was he? When would he return? Did it have to do with Voldemort? He had seemed somehow angry with Harry when he had returned from the Death Eater Gathering. Was he angry? What had Harry done to upset him? His mind was a whirl of questions and each one seemed to make him feel more apprehensive.

He picked at the food on his plate, not feeling the least bit hungry anymore. He was relieved when some of the professors began to leave, so he could slip away too.

He didn't want to go back to the empty common room, or the Astronomy Tower, so he went to the Library. Madame Pince was shelving new books when he walked in. She frowned at him and he ignored it in favor of roaming the stacks, looking for a subject that might catch his interest. You'd think that, with the size of the Library, that wouldn't be very hard. But Harry couldn't find anything that looked good. He left the Library and wandered a few corridors before deciding to head out to the Quidditch pitch. Sitting in the stands, he imagined himself on a broom, soaring high overhead. It seemed a familiar sensation, one that he had felt before, but he couldn't bring himself to find a broom and try it.

He started when Dobby popped into the seat next to him. "Is Master Harry needing anything?"

Harry frowned. _'_Harry_ is not an invalid. What did Dumbledore ask you to do, anyway? Keep an eye on me?'_

Dobby's eyes got wide. "Dobby would never spy on Harry Potter, sir!"

'_Yeah, but you have to do what he says, don't you? He's like the ultimate master of the castle, isn't he?'_

Dobby looked at him with his big bulbous eyes and nodded. "Headmaster Dumbledore is a great wizard, like Harry Potter. He would never tell Dobby to do something that would hurt Harry Potter."

'_I know that, Dobby … it's just that it seems like they think I need watching all the time. It's hard, not being able to speak out loud. They know I don't remember everything, and I think they believe I'll do something stupid._' He looked at Dobby with a shake of his head.

"Dobby will tell you what Headmaster Dumbledore says. He says Harry Potter is missing his best friends and Dobby is to be his friend. He says that sometimes Harry Potter is getting himself lost and he cannot be calling out for help. He asked Dobby to listen for Harry Potter, in case he was lost, or frightened."

Harry sighed. Certainly, Dumbledore meant well. Dobby was attentive, even overly so. Harry remembered that the elf could be quite devoted. But really, he'd rather have- Snape. Putting his head in his hands, he tried again to call him. _'Severus, please answer me. Please.'_

Dobby reached out a slender-fingered hand. "Professor Snape will not be wanting to answer Harry Potter."

'_Why, Dobby? Where is he?'_ Harry hated the desperate tone in his voice.

"Professor Snape is here. He is in his dungeons."

Harry stood up quickly. '_Great! Lets go.'_

Shaking his head, Dobby pulled on Harry's arm. "Dobby was being told you is not to go to the dungeons." Harry looked at him in disbelief. Dobby lowered his head and whispered, "Dobby is sorry, Harry. Dobby knows Harry wants to see his teacher, but Dobby cannot let you go there."

'_But why?'_ Harry could feel all the insecurity, all the doubt, all the fear welling up inside as he stood there. Dobby didn't seem to have an answer to that.

Harry sat back down heavily. Dobby sat beside him. Harry just sat in the stands for hours, ignoring the movement of the sun as the day passed, ignoring the rumble in his stomach when noon passed. He felt paralyzed with indecision. Snape had somehow become the one person he wanted to be with; the one he trusted more than any other. Part of him seemed to be warning him against those feelings, and that's what caused the indecision. He was afraid that the trust he felt was faulty. Like Snape had told him; his thinking processes were flawed.

Harry hoped that one day would be enough for Snape to work through whatever he was dealing with. Then he would answer him, he was sure.

Snape did not answer, nor did he initiate a connection.

Dumbledore took note of Harry's increasing melancholy. As the next few days passed, he ate less and less. Dobby reported that he would ask for snacks at times, but then would stop eating them after a few bites. He also said that Harry wouldn't come to the Great Hall unless Dobby insisted.

When Harry became noticeably more drawn, Dumbledore decided that he would have to talk to Snape again. He reflected on the conversation between them following the Death Eater's Gathering …

Dumbledore followed Snape through the Floo from the Hospital Wing to his quarters in the Dungeons. The black Death Eater's robe snapped around him as he stalked through the room, throwing the evil-looking mask onto a table. He turned to face Dumbledore, who was already speaking,

"Harry has been very worried about you; perhaps you could give him a little reassurance."

"I will thank you not to tell me what I should or should not do. I do not wish to see him, nor do I wish for him to see me."

"Severus –"

"It is not negotiable," he spat. He flung the robe over a chair and began to pace the floor rapidly. Dumbledore watched him silently, knowing that something had occurred to cause this anger, and he would have to wait patiently for Snape to tell him what it was.

After a few turns on the floor, Snape turned to glare at Dumbledore. "I had to prove my loyalty tonight. The Dark Lord demanded that I show him through my obedience that I was ever worthy of his Inner Circle."

Dumbledore looked at him sadly. "I understand how that must make you feel –"

"You understand nothing!" Snape interrupted him. His face was livid with anger. "You understand nothing of what I am asked to do to prove myself to him!" He towered over Dumbledore. "Muggles died tonight. Innocent of everything, they were in the wrong place when The Dark Lord gave his orders. I had to participate in their torture and killing."

"I'm sorry, Severus."

"Sorry? Well, that makes me feel better," he sneered sarcastically. "I'm sure I'll rest easier knowing that you're sorry." He paced more. "I cannot risk exposing Harry to what I did. I will not taint him with it."

"Harry needs you," Dumbledore said quietly.

"He does not need a Death Eater."

"Ex-Death Eater," Dumbledore clarified.

"No. After tonight, I can no longer tell myself that I am playing a role as a Death Eater. I _was_ a Death Eater. I followed every instruction that The Dark Lord gave, and that makes me just as guilty as he is, more so because it was my hand that spilled blood tonight."

Dumbledore paced more sedately around the room. "You are the only one he can talk to. He counts on you, as well you know."

"He will have to learn not to."

"Won't you go to him –"

"No. I will not." He whirled away towards the door of his private laboratory. At the door, he turned back. "Our relationship is over as of now. I will not be a part of what he is to become. It is not possible that he would need a Death Eater at his side." He entered the lab, and slammed the door.

Dumbledore contemplated the door for a few moments. He realized that Snape was angry, and extremely disheartened. He hoped that he would move on towards acceptance and open back up to Harry after he had a chance to think about what he had said …

But he had not relented in his feelings. He was adamant that he stay away from Harry and Harry away from him. When Dumbledore asked him how he thought Harry was to get his needs met, he had flippantly suggested that perhaps a House Elf could be assigned to attend the Boy Who Lived.

Dumbledore actually thought that was a workable suggestion and he called the one House Elf he would trust with such a job. Upon speaking with Dobby, he was assured that Dobby could indeed hear Harry, and would gladly do whatever it took to help him, whether it was for companionship, comfort, food, or protection.

Dumbledore sighed. Dobby was not what Harry needed, he was sure. For all the Elf's enthusiasm, he was still not the mentor that Harry would need to get him through the fate destiny had in store. Dobby was reporting restless sleep and perhaps nightmares each morning when he told Dumbledore how the night had gone. When he suggested that perhaps a mild sleeping potion, or Dreamless Sleep draught might help him, Harry had refused. He would look at Dumbledore with those green pools that were dull with a nameless fatigue, and Dumbledore wanted to throttle Snape.

He had avoided even mentioning Harry to Remus Lupin. He had been on a deep assignment to convert followers away from the renegade Greyback for more than six months. He had told Dumbledore to contact him if there had been an emergency with Harry. He wondered if this was the time. So far, he had been content to let the First Prophecy blossom on its own. It had seemed to be working out as it should. Now … could he afford to let much more time pass before he took some kind of intervening measures to get Snape back with Harry? Would the presence of Lupin make matters worse for Harry, if Harry even remembered him? Could he convince Lupin to try and force Snape's hand, without contacting Harry? If he contacted Lupin, he had to be willing to compromise his undercover position. He had to believe that Lupin would forgive the passage of time when Dumbledore had not told him about Harry's injuries and subsequent disabilities. The wolf could be a very reasonable man, but when it came to Harry … would he be reasonable concerning Harry's need for Severus Snape?

He felt that a decision would have to be made soon. The term was about to begin and Harry had not done any magic since he had been back at Hogwarts. Dobby said that his wand was in his trunk, untouched, and Harry had not tried wandless magic. Dumbledore had mentioned this to Snape and had received only a cold stare in response.

Dumbledore was uncharacteristically at his wits end.


	37. Chapter 38

Chapter 38: Prongs

In the end, Dumbledore thought he couldn't take a chance on the explosive results of adding Remus Lupin to the mix. The First Prophecy spoke of hostility. Perhaps this was what it meant. Perhaps he should allow things to take the course they were meant to and avoid any intervention.

Harry rolled restlessly in his sleep. As he slept, his mind muttered responses to images of an angry Vernon Dursley, fist raised. The dream Harry cowered in a dark cupboard, hoping desperately that the man would vent his anger only verbally this time. He had a fist between his teeth to stifle any sounds that might attract attention …

Dobby stood beside the closed bed curtains, wringing his hands. Harry Potter's nightmares were getting worse. Dobby saw more abuse than had ever been heaped upon his own head. He considered his options. Professor Dumbledore would calm him and tell him to do the best he could to comfort Harry. Harry needed Professor Snape. But Dobby did not want to venture into the dungeons, oh no. The Professor had been only a step away from kicking Dobby when he had dared to try his own hand at convincing the Potions Master to talk to Harry.

He stood there for a few moments more. The wrenching cries of a beaten child made him snap his fingers and pop into place beside the armchair of Snape.

Snape hardly showed a response to the Elf's intrusion, but his eyes were aflame with irritation as he looked down at Dobby. He held a full glass of amber liquid in his hand, the almost empty bottle at his elbow on a low table.

Dobby bowed low. "Please Master Snape, please don't kick Dobby before Dobby tells you about Harry Potter! Harry Potter is needing you!"

Snape glared at the elf. "Are you not supposed to be taking care of what he needs? Leave me." He took a long sip from the glass and then fixed the elf with bloodshot black eyes.

Dobby shook down to his toes and great tears leaked from his eyes. "Harry Potter is _crying_! Dobby has never seen Harry Potter cry!" He covered his face with trembling hands. "Dobby is not knowing what to _do_ when Harry Potter is dreaming of being treated worse than a bad house elf."

Snape narrowed his eyes and sat up. In a low growl, he asked, "What do you mean?"

Dobby looked up at him from between his fingers. In a squeaky voice he answered, "His dreams are when he was beaten and worse. He isn't a student Harry Potter … he is a little boy." Dobby let out a loud wail. "Oh, Dobby didn't know how Harry Potter's family treated him or Dobby would _never_ have tried to keep him from Hogwarts two years ago!"

Snape rose to his feet. The elf clapped a hand over his mouth to stop his own cries. He looked up at the dark expression on Snape's face. Snape seemed to be considering something before he strode to the fireplace. His fists opened and closed a few times before he finally reached for the Floo powder. After throwing it, he called for the Gryffindor Common Room. Dobby popped up beside him when he stepped out onto the rug.

He turned baleful eyes on the elf and snarled, "You will not tell him I was here." He barely waited for Dobby's nod before stalking up the stairs to the dormitory.

He stood beside the bed, listening to the soft whimpers coming from inside the curtains. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. Quietly opening the curtains, he stared down at Harry. He was curled up on his side, clutching the blankets close around himself. His face was tear-streaked, with more rolling down the cheeks.

Snape reached down a hesitant hand and softly smoothed the hair of the boy. Just that one motion seemed to cause a slight relaxation of Harry's features. Snape withdrew his hand and reached into his robe.

In his hand was Prongs, the stuffed deer, still in its miniaturized form. He muttered a spell and the toy resumed its full size. Harry had never mentioned it after the incident at the school. When Harry had seemed less a child, Snape had assumed he no longer needed it, or he had forgotten it. Tonks had brought it to Hogwarts when she came to give a follow-up report.

Snape rubbed the soft fuzzy material as he thought. He had taken to carrying Prongs in his own pocket during the last week. It reminded him that Harry was pure, and he was not. It made him keep his determination to be separate, to keep the promise he had made to a dead Lily to keep her son safe this time. It made him remember that his own youthful bitterness towards James should not have been carried over to his son. He could think of all that Harry had been through, and the toy symbolized a childhood that Harry had never had, and had needed, but not at Snape's hand.

As he stared down at him, he could barely restrain himself from putting a firm hand on Harry's head, to stop the nightmare he was having. But Harry needed someone who could mentor him without all the darkness that was in Snape. He had thought a lot about it. As much as he hated the werewolf Lupin, Dumbledore would have to call him back from his mission. Harry would be his new mission.

He held the toy up to his face. He would make one last gesture of help to Harry before he totally washed his hands of him. Almost silently, he breathed some whispered charms over the deer. Finishing, he laid it in the crook of Harry's arm.

Almost immediately, Harry pulled Prongs close to his chest, his face pressed into its softness. At his side, Snape noted that Dobby relaxed, and he took that to mean that Harry was resting better now.

Snape crooked his finger at the elf and left the dormitory. Down in the common room, he said, "I will tell you again, Harry is not to know I was here. You may tell him that the toy came from Tonks." With that, he disappeared into the flames in the fireplace. Dobby cocked his head as he considered what he had witnessed. Then he went back up to stand guard beside Harry.

Harry woke up, feeling the tiredness that lingered after a night spent in sleep that was not restful. He rolled over and his attention was immediately on the stuffed animal beside him. He sat up and held it with a frown. Where had it come from? Images struggled to form themselves in his mind; he saw this toy flying through the air, he saw himself holding it tightly as he slept, he felt the fuzz against his face as he hid under a desk … he had left it there when William attacked … he had forgotten …

He rubbed the fuzzy antlers. '_Prongs. Your name is Prongs. How did you get here?_' He buried his face in the animal and felt a calming sensation wash through him. It was warm and safe. Prongs was an anchor. He sat there for a long time, basking in the feeling of security.

Then he frowned. _'Where did you come from? Dobby?'_

Dobby popped onto the bed. "Harry is needing something, sir? Breakfast is being served. Harry should go down and eat."

'_How did this get here?'_ he asked, holding up the deer.

Dobby looked down at his feet. "I am told that Tonks brought it."

Harry studied the elf for a minute. He brought the deer back up to his face. Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply. This did not smell of Tonks. Harry remembered her; she was pretty, with a bright smile; he thought that she must have helped him at some time in the past, because his feelings for her were fairly trusting.

No. The scent here was familiar; giving him that secure feeling. Herbal, an earthy, tangy smell … Snape. It was Snape that he felt and smelled when he held Prongs. His eyes felt hot and he squeezed them shut tighter. He had been here, right beside him, and he hadn't talked to him. Holding the toy close to himself, he bent over with his head almost on the bed. _'Severus, please …'_

The link was still closed.

"Harry should come down to breakfast now." Dobby had a hand on his shoulder.

Harry shrugged him off. _'I'm not going anymore unless Severus comes and makes me.'_ He thought that even if Snape came up her in anger at Harry's childishness, it would be better than this overwhelming emptiness, At least he would see him and be able to try and get him to talk to him again. He looked at Dobby, his face set in stubborn lines_. 'You tell them that I will not eat anymore; I won't leave Gryffindor Tower; unless he comes and makes me.'_

Dobby snapped his fingers and a plate of fragrant scrambled eggs with a side of toast and jam appeared in front of Harry. "Harry Potter must eat. Harry will be making himself ill if he is not eating."

'_Exactly.' _ Harry got up and left the room, closing the door to the bathroom as he washed his face. He looked at himself in the mirror. There were circles under his eyes and even he could see that he had the look of an animal waiting to see if its owner had a mind to feed it or kick it. Would this work? Maybe Snape knew some spell to put food directly into his stomach without Harry having to eat. Maybe Dumbledore would have Pomfrey sedate him so they could make sure he didn't starve himself. He set his mouth in a tight line. They better think before they do that. Harry felt a sudden deep determination that he would not be forced to eat. Somehow, he knew that he had gone without food in the past. This would not be hard for him to do now …

Dumbledore looked at the elf that had appeared at his side. He was seated with the other teachers in the Great Hall. Only Snape was absent, along with Harry. "Is Harry on his way, Dobby?"

Dobby's ears were folded down close to his head as he answered. He knew that Dumbledore would never kick him, but he was not looking forward to telling him what Harry had said. He looked around at the other teachers before saying, "Harry Potter is not coming, sir. Harry Potter says to tell you he will not eat unless Professor Snape comes and makes him eat."

Dumbledore had wondered if Harry would think of a way to try and get a response from Snape. He wasn't angry at Harry, and he smiled a sad smile down at Dobby to show him that he wasn't angry at him either. "What happened to precipitate this turn of events?"

McGonagall was leaning forward to listen in as Dobby said softly, "Harry Potter is having terrible bad dreams. Dobby is not knowing what to do to help him, but Dobby thinks that Harry is really needing his Professor Snape. Professor Snape told Dobby not to tell Harry Potter that he came, but Harry guessed. The toy Professor Snape took to him smelled like the Professor and Harry Potter knew." Dobby looked very sad. "Now Harry Potter says that he will not eat unless Professor Snape comes himself." Twin tears rolled down the elven cheeks. "Harry Potter would not be tempted by his favorite eggs, Harry is thinking that he has gone hungry before and he could do it again if it would get him his Professor."

Dumbledore laid a gentle hand on Dobby's shoulder. "Watch over him closely, Dobby. If he becomes ill, I need to know at once. Keep trying to entice his appetite, but don't make him angry with you. He needs you."

Dobby pulled himself up a little straighter and nodded, his ears perking up. He snapped his fingers and was gone.

Dumbledore looked at McGonagall. Her mouth was set. "Surely you will make Severus go to the boy."

"I have tried, Minerva. He is refusing all contact with Harry." He thought for a moment. "I spoke with him before I came here. He insists that I summon Remus Lupin to deal with Harry."

"Lupin is –" she bent her head closer to Dumbledore to whisper, "He is on a mission for the Order. Will he come back for this?"

'Oh, I am certain that he would, I had considered it myself before Severus thought of it. But upon consideration, I believe that Remus might make matters worse. There is still the old animosity between them. Remus would likely be too emotional to be of real help. I am not even certain Harry has a current memory of him. That, and the fact that the mission he is on is extremely critical. I do not wish to compromise his security by calling him back for this."

"Then what _will_ you do?" she asked.

"I am calling Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley to come back early. I believe we might waive the Hogwarts Express rule for them in this case," he said thoughtfully.

Dubious, she asked, "Just what do you expect them to do that you cannot?"

"They may push Severus to act in a way we can't."

"Push? Albus, surely you can't mean that they will make him go to Harry? To do that, they would have to enrage him …"

"Yes," he said simply. "Their love and friendship for Harry will cause them to confront him. In return, I suspect that he will do whatever it takes to appease them."

"And I suspect that it will get them killed, or at least expelled by Severus," she said dryly.

"Oh, I won't allow that," he assured her. Wiping his mouth with his napkin, he arose. "If you would like to come with me while I contact the Burrow?"

She nodded and joined him as he swept out of the door.

Ron and Hermione walked up to the castle from the Apparition point at the gates. Mr. Weasley had Apparated them individually to this place before heading to work. Dumbledore had told him what was happening, and he felt worried for the two teens walking away from him. But he trusted that Dumbledore knew what he was about and would keep them safe from Snape.

Ron and Hermione held hands as they walked. Their trunks would be brought later and they were unencumbered.

"Isn't it great that Dumbledore is letting us come early to be with Harry? Do you think he remembers more and asked for us?" Ron grinned

"I hope that's what it is." Her voice was worried. "I don't think they would have bent the rules about arriving on the train for a little reason. I think something else might be happening."

"There you go again; getting all worried and suspicious." He sighed.

She cast a sideward glance up at the redhead. "I haven't often been wrong, have I?"

"No." Ron sighed heavily. "What if Harry is still … you know … strange?"

"Well," Hermione started thoughtfully, "Professor Dumbledore was rather unclear about his condition. He just said Harry needed to be with his friends. He knew Harry always spent the end of summer at the Burrow … maybe there's a reason Harry couldn't and he decided to let us come here instead."

"We'll soon find out. Look. Dumbledore and McGonagall are waiting for us," he said.

They got to the castle doors and greeted the Headmaster and his Deputy. Dumbledore smiled. "Welcome, welcome, Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley. So good of you to be willing to come here and be with Harry."

Hermione glanced at Ron before saying, "Yes, you know we care about him, and we'll do anything he needs. But we're not sure we know what to expect. Could you tell us?"

"I was just about to invite you to my office for tea to discuss that very thing."

They followed the two professors up to the gargoyle entrance to Dumbledore's office.

"Cherry cordial." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled at them as he spoke the password. "I do love those particular Muggle chocolates."

He motioned them to sit down while McGonagall conjured up a tray of tea and sandwiches. Peering over his half-moon spectacles, his face took on a serious expression.

"Harry has been through quite a summer. You knew, of course, about his regression following his stay with his uncle and aunt." Ron and Hermione nodded. "Then he became aware of the history between himself and Professor Snape while at the Burrow." They nodded again. Dumbledore took a deep breath. "His summer did not improve. He protected Professor Snape when one of the Muggle students attacked with a knife. Harry was badly injured, yet again."

Hermione gasped and Ron cursed under his breath before looking at McGonagall in apology. Dumbledore continued. "Harry began to get more of his memory back and has become more his own age again." He held up a hand to stop their enthusiastic reception of that news. "However, he still does not speak, and he refuses to do magic, even after that little bit of wandless he did at the Burrow." He looked at McGonagall before adding, "He and Professor have had a difference of opinion and they are no longer linked."

"But what happened?' Hermione asked.

"I cannot share all of it with you. But the fact is, Professor Snape is the one who initiated the split. Harry is quite despondent and is refusing to eat now. He won't come out of Gryffindor Tower. Dobby can hear him and has been his companion. What I need is for you two to draw him out. Perhaps he will even be willing to try magic with you here."

Hermione and Ron looked at each other and then back at Dumbledore. "Whatever it takes, Professor. We'll do whatever it takes," Ron vowed.


	38. Chapter 39

Chapter 39: A Friend In Need

Ron and Hermione walked up to Gryffindor slowly, digesting what they had been told. Harry was not eating; Harry was not talking; Harry was not using magic. They were supposed to somehow help him get past all that; and do it before term started. Not exactly what they had thought they would be doing during the last week of holiday. They walked through the portrait hole and stopped. Harry sat in front of the fire, a book in his lap. He looked up at their arrival, and broke into a grin. Rising to his feet unsteadily, he met them in a three-way hug.

"Harry!" Hermione cried. "We've missed you so much!"

"How are you, mate?" Ron grinned back at him.

Harry stepped back then. He looked at them and opened his mouth. For a moment, Hermione held her breath. Could it be this easy? Then he shook his head sadly and turned away. Hermione caught his arm and led him over to the sofa. She sat him down and Ron sat on the other side.

"Harry, we are your friends. It doesn't matter if you talk or not. We're just glad to be with you." She squeezed his arm.

"Yeah," Ron agreed. "We're the Trio. Remember?"

Harry looked at him quizzically, shaking his head. Hermione sat straighter, "Well, we are. And we will just have to start helping you remember all the things you need to know. Okay?"

Harry smiled and nodded. Ron stood up and rubbed his stomach. "Let's start by seeing what they're having for dinner. I'm starved."

Harry immediately frowned and shook his head again. He gave a look of concentration, and in a moment, Dobby popped up beside the sofa. "Harry Potter needs something?" he squeaked. Then, seeing Ron and Hermione, he squealed, "Master Weasley and Mistress Granger! Harry Potter's best friends! Dobby is so pleased to see you!"

He stopped then, as if listening, looking at Harry. Then he turned back to Ron and Hermione. "Harry is saying for you to go eat. He will be staying here."

"Harry, you have to eat, too. Come on and we can catch you up on what Fred and George have invented now, and about that Siberian Dragon I saw," Ron said brightly.

Hermione caught on to what he was doing. "And I want to tell you all about Rome. Did you know that –"

Dobby interrupted, "Harry is saying he knows what you are trying to do. He will not go down to the Great Hall until Professor Snape comes up here. He wants you to know he remembers what you mean to him … he cares for you too … but he needs Professor Snape …" He looked at Harry, still listening. "He is not whole anymore, and he doesn't think he will ever be, without the Professor."

"Oh Harry," Hermione said sadly, "You can't believe that. Your magic is yours alone."

Harry shook his head and Dobby said, "Not until he pieces it all together. Harry says he won't be whole until he pieces himself together … Harry Potter may be a teenager in his mind again, but he needs what the little boy is remembering … he needs the Professor to help him find him."

Ron looked at his friend and saw the eyes begging him to understand. He sat back down looking at his hands as he thought about what he wanted to say. "Harry, do you remember that you are the hope of our world?" Harry looked startled and shook his head. "You have survived everything Vol- He Who Must Not Be Named-has ever thrown at you. You're the only wizard who might be able to stop the crazy b. But that's not why most people care about you." He reached out and took his friends hand; a little hesitantly, because it felt strange to hold another boy's hand. "You're real. You don't try to be anything but what you are. You don't want to be famous. You just want to be you." He awkwardly squeezed the hand he was holding. "What I'm trying to say is, you've come through some nasty stuff, wizarding and Muggle. Don't let one greasy git get the best of you. You never have before."

Hermione put an arm around his shoulder. "We love you like our own brother. We'll help you do whatever it takes to get back to yourself. Tell us what you need."

Harry leaned into her embrace and pulled on Ron's hand so that he was included. They sat that way for a long time, knowing Harry needed the closeness, the contact with them. He soaked up the feeling of acceptance from them, feelings of a belonging that he had forgotten but was now returning.

Dobby said softly, "Harry is saying for you to go ahead and get dinner. He will think about what you have said while you are gone."

The two friends reluctantly let go of Harry and stood up. Ron tried again. "I'll bring you a pudding, alright?"

Harry shook his head, giving Ron a smile that said he wasn't giving in. He opened his book back up and bent his head over it, not watching as his friends slowly exited the common room. When they had gone, Dobby spoke, "Harry is glad his friends have returned?" Harry nodded. "Now Harry won't be so lonely with just an old house elf for company."

Harry put out a hand and stroked Dobby's cheek. _'You're not just an old house elf. You're brilliant and I don't know how I'd have done without you. I know it's hard to tell others what I'm saying. I don't always have nice words for you to tell.' _ He thought about the messages of outright refusal and threats he had sent to Dumbledore, in an effort to get Severus to come. _'Thank you for being my voice.' _ He dropped his hand back into his lap and began to read again. Dobby watched him for a few more moments, hoping he would ask for a snack or a drink of pumpkin juice. When the request didn't come, he popped away.

Hermione and Ron sat down at the table. McGonagall looked at them expectantly.

"You couldn't persuade him either?"

The two gave identical shakes of their heads. Hermione said softly, "I hate to even suggest it, but perhaps if Professor Snape just went and saw Harry for a short while …"

"We have tried to make that happen, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said. "He is just as determined not to as Harry is determined to not eat."

"Well, we can't let him starve himself. Does Snape know that's what he's doing?" Ron asked hotly.

"Professor Snape," McGonagall reminded him.

Ron snorted as he began to load up his plate. "Whatever." He ignored the deep frowns of disapproval from around the table. Hermione elbowed him in the ribs. He shook his fork at her and then Dumbledore, "If he doesn't come around, it'll be all that git's fault. You can expel me if you want, for saying that, but you know it's true as much as I do." He looked around, feeling his anger needed a focal point. "Where is the black bat, anyway?"

Dumbledore barely kept a straight face at the brave words from the red-headed Gryffindor. "Professor Snape no longer joins our mealtimes either." Then, because he was duty-bound to say so: "Mr. Weasley, you will refrain from insulting a Hogwarts teacher … at least you will not do so aloud."

Ron and Hermione looked astonished at this much leeway. Had Dumbledore just looked over Ron's blatant insult with no more than a tap on the wrist?

Hermione paused after a bite was swallowed. "Harry seems very glad to see us, sir. He knows us well enough, but there is obviously something missing, at least to him. Did you know that he feels incomplete?"

Dumbledore looked at her sadly. "I thought as much. I'm afraid that may be a two-way situation."

Hermione eyed him in speculation. "Are you saying that Professor Snape is incomplete without Harry?"

Dumbledore smiled at her. "You are a very intuitive young lady, Miss Granger. What is it telling you now?"

Hermione chewed another bite thoughtfully. Then, she slowly formulated her answer. "I think that whatever that link they share is, it has made them two parts of a whole. I think, as much as it might be disagreeable to some –" she looked at Ron – "that Harry is right. He is incomplete without Professor Snape."

Dumbledore waited for her to go on. Hermione looked around the table at the other Hogwarts teachers. They had all discussed what they might do to settle things. Of course, they wanted Harry back to normal, as much as they wanted their colleague back. Term was about to start. Potions was an important subject. They had not seen Snape in days. How were they to be sure that he would be ready for his classes?

Dumbledore leaned forward. "Is that all, Miss Granger?"

She hesitated to respond, but finally spoke, "I haven't known everything that has happened like you, Professor," She looked at him steadily, "I wouldn't presume to have an answer; just suppositions."

McGonagall leaned towards her, "Well, lets hear it, then. Perhaps we need your perspective, as it might better reflect what Harry needs than ours."

"I think that they each represent something. Harry is of course, the good side, or the Light. Professor Snape is therefore the bad side, or the dark." She looked at them apologetically. Dumbledore motioned for her to continue. She got up to pace as she talked. "Suppose that Voldemort cannot be beaten by pure goodness." She frowned at Ron and the teachers who hissed in a breath at the mention of the Dark Lord's name. "Suppose that Harry will need a measure of darkness incorporated into his light, in order to defeat him."

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes. I see what you mean. Professor Snape is the balance Harry needs, the measure of darkness required."

"Harry feels lost. Ron and I can see that, even if he didn't tell us. Even if he's not back to himself, the Harry we know never dug his heels in over something unless it was truly important. It doesn't matter what Professor Snape has been in the past. Right now, only how Harry feels is important. Right now, Harry needs him. Somehow, we have to make that happen. Can't you talk to Professor Snape and get him to see that?"

"I have tried, dear girl. He has his heels dug in just as firmly as Harry." The table was silent except for the sounds of forks and knives against china.

After a few moments, Ron spoke up. "May I speak freely, sir?"

"Of course, Mr. Weasley, as long as you do not needlessly slander anyone, I think you may feel free to speak your mind." Dumbledore spoke as if he knew that Ron was about to talk about Snape.

"Well, I think you know that Snape, I mean Professor Snape, has never been one of my favorite people." Dumbledore nodded his acknowledgement. "When he came to the Burrow after Harry had been sent back to the Dursley's, he was different, I don't know, not as harsh. Then when Tonks brought Harry back and they saw each other … I never thought I'd see Harry run to anyone, but especially not to Professor Snape. They were like a son and his father." He laughed softly, derisively. "Snape was protective of him, patient in a very un-Snape like way. I knew then that I'd been wrong to doubt your trust in him," he said to Dumbledore. He took a drink of his pumpkin juice. "You don't know how much I hate saying that. Snape has only ever been a right git to all of us in Gryffindor. But even I can see that right now there's something that they both need. They won't find it unless they are together. Why can't Snape see that? He's the adult here. He should be able to do what he has to. What happened to make him just shut Harry out?"

Dumbledore looked around the table before answering, "I cannot divulge his confidences, as I have already told Miss Granger, but you should know that what he's doing, he does out of a sense of protecting Harry, not malice."

They nodded reluctantly. Everyone finished their meal in silence. Ron and Hermione went back up to Gryffindor tower, determined to try again to get Harry to eat at least

a few bites.

They found him exactly as they had left him, with the book in his lap. Hermione went over and sat down, gently lifting the book to glance at the title. Seventh year potions … "Harry, have you really read all of this?" she asked, noting that he was more than halfway done. When he nodded, she asked, "Do you understand it all, or are you just reading?"

He looked at her with exasperation. Dobby popped up beside the sofa. "Harry Potter understands it all. He says to tell you that he doesn't remember it not making sense in the past. Was it a difficult subject, he asks."

"You and Ron always needed my help understanding some of it," she said. "I just wondered if all that has happened somehow made it possible for you to understand it easier. This is advanced material for any of us."

Harry looked at her thoughtfully. Dobby looked back and forth between all of them, as Ron took his place back on the other side of Harry. Then he said, "Harry says he thinks there's a lot that has changed in him, but he doesn't know all. He understands potions, and maybe some other magical subjects better than before. He is not knowing how he did in these areas before, so he is confused by your question."

She laid a hand on his arm. "It's alright, Harry. If you understand and it's all easier now, that's great. You were never stupid or anything, you and Ron just needed to be pushed to study and try to do well. I'm glad that one of you won't be so reluctant to study now."

Ron mockingly reached over Harry and gave her a playful slap on the arm. "So I'm the only one you'll have to drive crazy with your pushiness now."

She rolled her eyes and smiled at him while Harry looked at both of them in turn. Dobby's squeaky voice uttered shyly, "Harry wants to know if you are … close."

Ron reddened and answered, "We've gotten closer over the last few months, mate. But you're still our best friend, too. In fact, you're like our brother, if you'd like to call it that. We both think of you as a brother, as well as a friend."

Harry looked at both of them, his eyes seeming to glow with unshed tears. "Family?" Dobby asked.

"Yes," Hermione answered. "We are more your family than your relatives ever have been."

Harry looked confused at that, shutting the book. Dobby said, "Harry is asking if he has relatives. He isn't remembering clearly how that is."

Ron and Hermione looked over Harry's head at each other, wondering how much to tell him. Ron finally asked, "The Dursleys are the last of your family. What _do_ you remember about them, Harry?"

Harry searched his mind for all the remnants of memory. He frowned even more at images of an angry man and woman, hands raised to hit, voices loud and abusive. Terror, hopelessness, and sadness; all those feelings seemed to be sparked by those images.

He needed something to stop that awful surge. What was it? Prongs. He needed Prongs. He would make it stop. He got up, swaying on his feet.

Ron quickly stood up and grabbed his arm to steady him. Was he this weak from lack of food? He looked at Hermione, who had a look of deep concern on her face, as well.

"Harry, you must eat something. This is not good if you can hardly stand up."

Shaking his head, Harry began to walk unsteadily up the stairs to the dormitory. Ron followed closely behind him, afraid that he might fall.

Hermione looked at Dobby. "How long has it been since he's eaten?"

"Dobby has been trying his best to get Harry to eat and drink for four days, Miss."

Hermione's mouth dropped open. "He hasn't been drinking either?"

Dobby shook his head sadly. Hermione walked up to the boy's dormitory. Ron was standing beside Harry's bed. He gave Hermione a worried look when she came in with Dobby. Harry had pulled the curtains shut on three sides of his bed, and most of the way on the fourth. He was sitting with his back against the headboard, knees drawn up. Prongs was held tightly in his crossed arms.

Dobby said, "Harry is wanting you to stay with him, if you want to."

Ron climbed onto the bed and sat back against the headboard next to Harry and Hermione climbed in on the other side. Harry was rocking himself slowly and they just sat quietly, not sure what they should do next.

"Harry, won't you at least drink a little bit of pumpkin juice or water? It's dangerous for you to go so long without anything." Hermione spoke softly.

He didn't acknowledge her request except to look over at Dobby. Dobby said, "Harry is saying he will not until Professor Snape comes." He was watching Harry closely, then, "Harry asks if you will just talk to him … tell him about things he may have forgotten … he wants to remember his years here and he cannot see it all … he is telling me that he thinks of different things that must have meaning, but he doesn't know what … please talk to him and help him not sleep … sleep has bad dreams in it."

They talked for hours, about how they had met, the classes that they had taken, what they thought about the teachers and other students. Dobby has perched himself at the foot of the bed and occasionally, he voiced a question or comment from Harry. He wanted to hear about what they had done during the summer; hadn't Ron said something about a dragon?

The room got dark, and still Ron and Hermione took turns talking. Eventually, Harry leaned his head down onto Ron's shoulder. Ron looked at Hermione and she just smiled softly over Harry's sleeping face. They worked together to get him under the comforter, pulling it up and tucking it around him and Prongs.

They were about to leave when Dobby started trembling. He was still perched on the bed and he was still watching Harry. Stopping, Ron asked, "What is it?"

"Inside his head … the bad dreams are coming … and Dobby is not knowing what to do."

The two teens stepped back to the bed, studying Harry. His face was now scrunched up in his sleep. A few drops of sweat began to bead on his forehead around the lightening bolt scar. As they looked on, he started twisting restlessly under the covers.

"What is he dreaming? Can you see it?" Hermione whispered.

Dobby shook his head. "Dobby cannot clearly see the pictures until they are very big in his mind. When he dreamed of his family, Dobby didn't see their faces until they hit Harry. Before, Dobby sees mostly colors of fear, like now."

"Is this one about that awful family, too?" Ron asked.

Dobby concentrated and then shook his head. "The colors is worse … the fear is worse …"

On the bed Harry suddenly clutched a hand to his head. At the same time, Dobby fell off the bed with a loud squeal.

"He dreams of He Who Must Not Be Named! That one is coming into Harry's dream!" He pressed his tiny fists into his mouth to stop himself from making more noise.

Ron and Hermione looked at each other as Harry began to moan. Ron climbed back on the bed and tried to pull Harry up. Awkwardly, he patted his back and began to say the only thing he knew might work, even though this was a dream. "Occlude it, Harry. Block it out of your head. Remember how to do it … I know you can, mate. Occlude … Occlude …"

Hermione looked on helplessly as Harry thrashed against Ron and whimpered louder. She glanced at Dobby. "This one is worse, isn't it? Worse than any he's had?"

"Yes." He nodded. "Even the spelled toy is not helping him."

Hermione looked at him sharply. "What do you mean? Spelled toy?"

Dobby pointed to Prongs. "Professor Snape came at the last bad dream when Dobby went and told him how bad it was. He brought the toy and spelled it so Harry would get comforted in his sleep … it is not working for this dream …"

"So Professor Snape _did_ come when you asked him to?" Hermione asked.

Dobby began to cry. "Professor Snape did not want to and he ordered Dobby not to tell Harry he came, but Harry knew. He could smell the professor on the toy, so he knew. It made Harry sad that Professor Snape would still not talk to him …"

Hermione looked back at Ron, who returned her look helplessly. He was still trying to hold on to Harry and whisper in his ear. Harry's frown had turned to an expression more like terror.

Hermione suddenly took in a deep breath and said firmly, "I'm going after the professor. Harry cannot continue like this. Professor Snape obviously does not see the magnitude of this. I'll make him come here."

"No, 'Mione. You can't go by yourself. You don't know what he'll be like."

"I don't care. I'll do whatever it takes to make him change his mind."

Ron shook his head, "At least take Dobby with you." He looked at Dobby, who was still trembling like he was cold.

The Elf nodded. "Dobby will go. Perhaps Miss Hermione can get Professor Snape to help Harry. Dobby will go so he can protect her … Professor Snape is not himself these last few days."

Hermione looked at Ron and he said quickly, "Let me go instead. You stay here with Harry."

She bit her lower lip and finally nodded in agreement. They worked together again to get Ron untangled from Harry and the comforter, then Hermione settled next to him where she began to stroke his back and whisper her own words of encouragement.

Ron watched them for a moment. Squaring his shoulders, he said, "I'm not coming back without him."

Hermione nodded as she watched Ron leave, trailed by Dobby.


	39. Chapter 40

_This chapter is **dedicated to KimSpiritTalks** a faithful reader and reviewer who believes in the story and in me enough to nominate it for The 2007 Quills Contest! Thanks Kim! I love you, girl!_

**Chapter 40: Whatever It Takes**

Snape sat down heavily in his chair near the fire. This had become the sitting place of choice. He had a table to keep the bottle on. It was beside the fire so he could watch the flames. It was not his bed, where the nightmares seemed to be worse.

He poured himself a full glass of Firewhisky and took a large gulp, grimacing at the burn as it slid down his throat. Mentally, he reviewed his day.

He had managed to finish brewing several potions for the Hospital stores, as well as for classes. Brewing was the thing that kept his mind the most free of the need to worry about Potter. In it, he had more focus, a way to direct his thoughts in a productive and familiar way. He had written more of the curriculum guide for the Muggle-born Orientation course. It lay on the floor at his feet and he bent to retrieve it, intending to give it further attention; hoping to keep sleep at bay.

It had been a struggle, but he had avoided all thoughts of Potter on this day. School was about to start and he just wanted everything to be back to normal. His idea of normal. Normal meant that he did not have these nightmares of Muggles being tortured and killed. Normal meant that he did not spend endless time in worry over the son of a hated school rival. Normal meant he would never be tempted to open up the link between himself and that son to make sure he was alright … He had to be alright … he was the Boy Who Lived, after all…the Boy Who Would Save Our World Someday … and he was going to have to do it without Snape, because he certainly wasn't what Potter needed, was he? Oh, Dumbledore kept trying to tell him that Potter needed him, but that couldn't be true. How could it be? He was a Death Eater at heart, no matter that Albus had tried to tell him that in a war, innocents were sometimes lost as casualties, along with the not so innocent.

But he felt sick to the bottom of his black soul. For years he had avoided active participation in the revels. Now he had bloodied his hands again. He had enough of a conscience left to think that such acts should be kept from Golden Boy. There was enough left to make him believe that he belonged in Azkaban after all.

He took another drink, trying to fix in his mind an old image of Harry Potter, the insolent teenaged brat, with defiant eyes and attitude. Somehow it kept dissolving into an image of a small, scared Harry Potter, clinging to Snape's hand and clutching a stuffed deer.

With a loud snarling curse, he hurled the glass into the fire, flinching as the alcohol caused a huge flare up in the flames.

No matter how he tried to dull it: with drink, with Occlumency, he still felt the tiny tug in his mind, the questing presence, seeking an answer. He pushed it away, refusing it. No one would ever be able to accuse him of ruining the hope of the wizarding world with his murderous hands.

He dropped his head into his hands, rubbing his face tiredly, feeling several days growth of beard. He wanted his solitude again. He wanted to know that his mind was his alone, not shared with a Gryffindor teenager. He wanted to feel secure in his ability to keep his thoughts Occluded from the Dark Lord. Right now, he knew that if he was summoned, he would break under any intensive scrutiny. He was weakened in his fatigue from the nightmares, and trying to shut Potter out.

He must have dozed that way, for he felt himself jerking back to wakefulness at a hand on his shoulder. He looked up, bleary-eyed, and saw Ron Weasley.

He stormed to his feet, drawing his wand automatically. "How dare you enter my quarters uninvited, Weasley?" He narrowed his eyes and asked then, "How did you manage to get past my wards and password?"

Ron gave a brief incline of his head and Snape noticed Dobby trembling at his side. "You are trespassing. Get out," Snape spat.

"Not until we have a talk and then you go to Harry." Ron said levelly.

Snape raised his eyebrows at that. Conjuring another glass, he poured himself more whiskey and took a deep drink. "Your Gryffindor bravery is masquerading as stupidity. I could have sworn you refused to obey my order to leave these rooms."

"And I told you, not until you go to Harry," Ron repeated.

Snape began to pace the room with glass in hand. "I am certain that Dumbledore told you that I have no wish to do that. Why would you think that you would be able to persuade me where he could not?"

"I've just come from Harry. He's bad off and if you would just –"

"I do not want to hear how he is doing. I care not how he is doing. You are wasting both our times," Snape sneered.

Ron looked pointedly at the glass. "Yeah, I see that I'm taking you away from pressing obligations, sir."

Snape dropped his second glass to the floor, heedless of the flying glass and alcohol. He had Ron's shirt front in his fists and had shoved him back against the door. His face was inches from Ron's as he growled through gritted teeth, "You will regret those words. Your disrespect is not acceptable."

Ron swallowed hard but was determined to get his point across. "I don't believe you have earned my respect yet." He felt the tip of Snape's wand jabbing into the soft tissue under his chin. They looked hard into each other's eyes for a long moment before Snape let him go and turned away.

Ron watched him pace; saw the half empty bottle on the small table; noticed the exhausted features on the teacher's face. He decided to say what he had come to say before Snape decided to bodily throw him from the room.

"Like I was saying, Harry is doing badly. Yes, Dumbledore told us you didn't want to see him. He wouldn't tell us why, just that your reasons were to protect him."

Snape stopped and peered at him. "If you know that, then why did you bother to come?"

"Because as much as I have detested you in the past, as much as I might think that I was right when I look at you right now, Harry needs you. You aren't protecting him if he manages to kill himself, are you?"

Snape had begun pacing again, but stopped abruptly and stared at Ron with glittering eyes. "You had better have good reason to believe that."

"Is the fact that he can hardly walk reason enough? Or do you need to hear that he shuts himself away inside the bed curtains, like it's some sort of hiding place? Maybe you need to ask Dobby here; he has to tell you the truth, doesn't he? He can tell you how many days it's been since Harry ate or drank anything. He can tell you how he tries not to go to sleep because he's afraid of the nightmares. He can tell you that right now, Harry is dreaming of Volde- He Who Must Not Be Named, and that damned toy you charmed for him is not working so well for that." Ron's eyes were just as hard as Snape's as he tried to stand his ground.

Snape glared and Ron glanced at Dobby. "What's it been since he ate or drank, Dobby? How many days since he's shut himself in Gryffindor?"

Dobby looked like he would really rather not have given an answer to that, but the Potions Master pierced him with black eyes and he stuttered, "F-f-four days it is since Harry Potter has eaten, sir."

"Tell Professor Snape how he's been," Ron ordered.

Dobby's ears were flat against his head in fright as he looked back and forth between the two. "H-harry Potter is having bad dreams whenever he sleeps now, so he tries not to sleep …"

Snape cursed under his breath. Waving a hand, a new glass appeared and filled itself from the bottle on the table. It floated over to Snape and he grasped it. So what if Potter was having nightmares too? He had enough of his own, too much for him to worry about Potter's. If the brat decided not to eat, it was not his fault. When he got hungry enough, he'd eat. _But the Dursleys starved him too_. He equates starvation with punishment. He's punishing himself … He's hiding in the bed … like under the desk … _the Dursleys locked him in the cupboard _… he's isolating himself like they did …

He paced and drank. He had nightmares … Potter had nightmares … coincidence? Maybe. How could he help him? Shaking his head, he told himself that he could not.

Ron saw the shake of his head and he knew that Snape had decided not to go to Harry. He strode forward and grabbed him by the front of his robes and jerked him to a stop. "I don't care what your reasons are, how you think you're protecting him. It's not working. You know I wouldn't beg you if I didn't think, if I didn't _believe_, that you are what he needs right now. I don't understand this connection – I don't like it, but it's a fact of life now. So you better deal with it, Snape. You're not abandoning him for your pathetic _reasons_."

Snape yanked himself out of Ron's grip with a snarl. "You know nothing." Before he could stop himself he said, "I am a Death Eater! You cannot seriously think that he needs one to help him do anything!"

Ron stepped back, uncertain. "You were a Death Eater. You're not now, or Dumbledore wouldn't have you here."

Snape gulped another swallow of the amber whiskey. "My loyalties to Dumbledore are not in question here. I have participated in Death Eater activities in my role as spy. Potter needs someone who can help him move towards the goal of defeating the Dark Lord. I am not that person."

"I agree." Ron glared at him, wanting to take the glass from him. "Unfortunately, it's not what we want, but what Harry needs. And that is you, you git."

Snape swayed as he returned the glare with his own. Oh this would be wonderful. He could expel a student before school even started. The nerve that this damn boy had, calling him names right to his face …

Dobby suddenly moaned where he stood. Ron and Snape looked at him. The elf had his hands over his ears, big tears running down his face. Both wizards started towards him. "What is it?" "What?"

He wailed, "Harry is screaming! There is music in his head and he is screaming! He sees red eyes!"

For a few seconds there was silence. Then Ron looked up as he heard the sound of the Floo. Snape was gone.

Ron ran for the door, and then beyond it he ran for Gryffindor Tower. Dobby had snapped his fingers and disappeared right after Snape had Flooed. He had a severe stitch in his side when he finally reached the Fat Lady's portrait, barely able to choke out the password. He bounded up the last set of steps and entered the dormitory.

Hermione stood off to the side, having been yanked out of the bed and out of Snape's way the moment he arrived. Her hands were pressed to her mouth as if she was trying to keep from letting anything out. When she saw Ron come in, she ran to him and grabbed his arm. "You did it! You got him to come … and you're still alive!"

He gave her a hug, ignoring that she had expected that Snape might well have killed him. "It wasn't me that convinced him. Dobby started crying about Harry screaming –"

"Oh Ron, it was awful! I was holding him and he was crying and then suddenly he jerked up and began to scream, but there was no sound! Then Professor Snape came in and pulled me away. It was a good thing, really. I couldn't have held onto him much longer …"

They were looking at Harry's bed, where Snape sat, holding a struggling Harry hard against himself.

They moved over and sat down on Ron's bed together; waiting; hoping, that this would get their Harry back.

Snape held onto the boy, wanting to be anywhere else but here. This was not his responsibility! Why had he reacted so hastily when that cursed elf had cried out what was in Harry's head? Why did he feel so compelled to at least try and bring comfort to Harry _bloody_ Potter?

Why did he feel so frail? This was not the fighting strength of a teenager … surely they had not been exactly truthful in telling him that this boy had not been eating or drinking? It had been a ploy, hadn't it? A ploy to trick him into relenting … but Merlin, he was thinner than he had been in the summer when he took him from those wretched relatives …

At that thought, the fight seemed to leave Harry and he slumped in Snape's arms. Snape looked down at his face and could see that the eyes were open, but they were those of a sleepwalker, unaware of his wakeful surroundings, still inside the dream. He did not want to open the link. But he was here now, wasn't he? When he messed Potter up even more badly, he supposed he would be able to have the satisfaction of a scathing 'I told you so', to throw at Dumbledore and those two idiot Gryffindors over there.

As soon as he cracked open the link he heard the terrified cries of the small boy Harry. He unconsciously tightened his hold as the cries rolled through their minds. In the background, music was ebbing and flowing; the words faint at the moment.

Snape opened the link wider, placing the palm of one hand against the back of Harry's head as he held it against his chest. Instantly, he was inside the dream place, foggy mist surrounding him.

Looking around, he saw only the mist, but the music was louder … the music of the Phantom as he was unmasked for Christine … he had to find the boy.

He walked rapidly, hoping that the boy was near. He almost tripped over the huddled form when it appeared suddenly before him. He knelt down and touched the boy's shoulder, causing him to cry out and crab-crawl away from him in terror. Snape grabbed hold of an arm to stop him.

'_Harry, I'm here.'_

The boy stopped his struggle for a moment to look up at him with wounded eyes. _'No! You're not real! You're a trick of the snake! You just want to catch me and eat me!'_

Snape's dream self pulled the small boy closer, sitting on the ground so he could gather him into an embrace. _'No. I won't let Nagini get you, you're safe now.'_ The boy gave a last great effort to escape before collapsing against him, sobbing.

'_You left! You said you wouldn't, but you did! You said friends didn't leave friends who were sad. You said you'd be here … you said …' _ He took a deep gasping breath. _'You wouldn't answer and I called and called …'_

Snape felt a pang of remorse at the accusing tone, the agony in the boy's voice. Had he said that? Yes. He had promised to be there. He hugged the boy to him tighter, rocking him in his lap. _'I'm sorry, Harry. I thought it would be best for me to stay away.'_

'_I've been running and running and I keep hearing her, and that music, and then I see red eyes looking at me –'_ The wrenching cries tore at the black heart deep within Snape. Could a black heart be torn? Could he have a heart at all to have caused such grief in this child?

He couldn't say he was sorry enough. There were no words to explain his reasonings to a child. All he could do was hold Harry; rock Harry; be here now for Harry.

It seemed that time stopped as they sat that way. Gradually, the sobs turned into hiccups of ragged breathing. Harry wound his fingers into the fabric of Snape's robe, rubbing his face against him.

Snape caught a shadow of movement out of the corner of his eye and looked up. A teenaged Harry Potter stood there, looking down at them.

'_Professor?' _He looked confused as he watched Snape continue to rock a dark-haired child. He had to be dreaming this. The Snape he knew wouldn't be caught dead being … tender.

Snape inclined his head, indicating that Harry should sit. He dropped to the ground, sitting cross-legged in front of the odd pair. The boy in Snape's lap turned at the whisper of noise his sitting made. Both Harry's drew in a startled breath as they saw the other's face. They stared into the green eyes of themselves, seeing the older and younger selves and feeling disoriented by it.

Snape was startled as well. Here were the two ages of Harry Potter … could they be integrated and restore full memory to the one mind? He looked at the older Harry, seeing the old doubt and mistrust, the dislike for the man he sat in front of. Somewhere, these two extremes must meet in the middle; the in-between was missing.

The older needed the security that he had missed as a child; the security that had been provided by Snape during his regression.

The younger Harry needed the knowledge that the older Harry had; the confidence; the determination to accomplish what needed doing.

The middle Harry was the one back on his bed, having nightmares, starving himself for imagined misdeeds, unable to speak, unwilling to believe in his magic. He needed these two parts to become whole again.

But how was this to be done? What was Snape supposed to do to make that happen? He rubbed the back of the Harry he held, the small boy still hiccuping every little bit.

Still holding onto Snape's robes with one hand, the small boy reached out a hand to the teenager. That Harry looked at Snape questioningly, and then took the little hand in his.

Immediately, Snape knew that _this_ was what was supposed to happen. Images rose up and swirled around them in the mist; images of past, and present. Not only the childhood spent in torment with the Dursleys, but the brief childhood spent with Snape, swinging in the park, eating hotdogs, getting the first real toy of his own, being cared for and protected.

Images of magic, and friendship swirled alongside images of Harry's encounters: Professor Quirrel in First Year, Voldemort in the back of his head. Meeting Tom Riddle and facing the basilisk. Voldemort's rebirth in the graveyard, Quidditch matches, classes. Eating dinner and playing games at the Granger's, laughing easily with his friends. Then images of the part of summers spent at the Burrow, learning what a family was supposed to be, knowing he had never had it … on and on, forwards and backwards in time, until they slowed and stopped, fading back into mist and fog.

The Harry's were staring into each other's eyes, both smiling now.

Small Harry turned in Snape's lap and put his arms around Snape's neck, hugging him tightly. He buried his face in the crook of Snape's neck and whispered, _'Thank you for coming for me when I was sad.'_ He stood up, and then Snape and teenager Harry arose, too. He put arms around the older Harry's waist, hugging him, and then started to walk away into the mist.

Snape knew that the integration had been complete; the child no longer needed to be separate. The things he had felt and experienced were now part of the whole. Teenaged Harry looked at Snape, knowing that he had rescued him, sheltered him, and nurtured him like he should have been when he really had been a child. There was trust for Snape in the green eyes again. Snape tried hard not to think about why he didn't deserve that trust anymore.

Then, at the edge of sight, small Harry stopped and turned back to look at them. He stared at Snape for a long moment before running back. Snape caught him up in another hug, needing to feel those arms around him one more time, as much as Harry needed his. He closed his eyes against an unfamiliar wetness when the boy whispered against his neck, _'I love you, Severus. Don't forget me.'_

'_I'll never forget you, Harry,'_ he whispered back. _'You've given me something I never had before; someone to care for, someone who needed me.'_ Somehow, it was easier to express feelings to a child, and he needed to express his feelings to this one. _'I love you too.'_

They both hugged the other fiercely before the little boy let go. Snape put him back on the ground, straightening and standing stiffly, guarding against threatening emotions. The boy disappeared into the mist.


	40. Chapter 41

Chapter 41: Two Halves Make A Whole Harry

Harry and Snape looked at one another as the mist rolled at their feet. Harry finally broke the silence. _'So, I guess it's been more than you expected, teaching summer school.'_

'_Yes. Much more. Muggles are more complicated than I gave them credit for.'_

'_But will you be able to use what you learned to help the students who are Muggle-born?'_

'_I am writing the curriculum. You and Miss Granger will be looking it over.'_

They both knew that this conversation was to avoid the one they really needed and wanted to have. Neither of them wanted to discuss the new Muggle-born Orientation course.

Harry stepped nearer. _'Why did you avoid me these last few days? What happened to make you turn away?'_ He held Snape's gaze like the Harry of old, brave, determined.

Snape found that he had to look away in order to answer him. He managed to look at a point over Harry's shoulder instead of looking down. _'I was summoned by The Dark Lord. I was forced to participate in activities I had long avoided, in order to keep them believing in my loyalties to his side.'_

Harry paled. _'It was bad, wasn't it, what he made you do.'_ It was said as a statement, not really a question at all.

Snape nodded. There was silence while both of them stood, waiting for something, some sign of what to say or do next.

Harry put out his right hand and Snape looked at him again; this time the question was in _his_ eyes. He looked at the outstretched hand for a very long moment. Slowly, he put out his own right hand. Harry moved forward and clasped the hand with his.

Snape felt the surge of healing energy flow between them, from their bodies, down through their arms, into the fingers and into one another. There almost seemed to be a brightness surrounding them as they stood there; not a glow, but just a brighter light reflecting from the mist and moving around them.

Snape felt stunned into breathlessness. There was not a harsh pain, but rather a pulling out of all the festering anger. It was like pulling out a splinter that had been under the skin for a long time; it hurt like hell to remove, but then the throbbing and pressure that had been there was gone. He felt renewed by the contact with Harry. There was understanding and acceptance in his grip, a giving back of strength that Harry had got from him. He closed his eyes then, realizing that this bond _was_ meant to be. Harry was pure, and he was the one destined to destroy the dark. But he would need the knowledge that only one who had been intimate with darkness would have. He would have to know what it was that he would be facing, and come to know it so well he would be able to discern where the Dark Lords weaknesses lay. It was Snape who would bring that about, as the one in darkness who had turned to light; just as the First Prophecy foretold.

The mist grew heavier until they were consumed in the whiteness of it. When Snape opened his eyes again he was in the Gryffindor dormitory, sitting on a bed, holding a sleeping Harry. Harry's face was peaceful; relaxed in a way that only a good rest could bring about. Snape laid him back and drew the covers up over his shoulders. He could not resist resting a hand on the messy head of hair, gently brushing his fingers through it.

'_Thank you.'_ He didn't know if the boy felt or heard his gratitude, but he was compelled to say it anyway.

Standing up, he turned to face the others in the room. Ron and Hermione were sitting together and Dumbledore had arrived at some point. He stood with Dobby near the foot of Harry's bed.

Snape said, "I believe that when he awakens next, he will be himself again. In the dreaming, there were two parts, the older Harry and the child. They somehow shared all their memories. It most likely means that he will recall everything he needs to."

Hermione hugged Ron in relief. Dumbledore smiled gently at Snape who scowled in return. Ron stepped forward and said quietly, "I owe you an apology, sir. I said some things I shouldn't have, to get you up here."

Snape narrowed his eyes as he glared at Ron, "Don't ever apologize when you do what is right, Mr. Weasley. Yes, your words were most disrespectfully delivered. But they were deserved, and necessary."

Ron looked flustered at Snape's acknowledgment. "Yeah, well, you were getting pretty smashed, and I wasn't sure you were even hearing what I said."

Snape drew himself up, raising his chin. "I was not nearly as _smashed_ as you believe."

Ron snorted at that and Hermione elbowed him with a frown. Dumbledore stood looking down at Harry, who was oblivious to all the talking, remaining asleep. He looked up at Snape. "Are you staying with him tonight?"

"I thought it would be best if I was here when he awakens." He walked over to one of the other beds. "I suppose one of these will do." He pulled his wand and banished the Gryffindor crimson and gold bed coverings and curtains; in their place, Slytherin green and silver. He challenged anyone to protest with his continuing glare.

Dumbledore chuckled, "I'll leave it to you, then." He walked out smiling, knowing that at least for now, all was right.

Hermione cleared her throat, "I hate to leave … but I suppose this is the boy's dorm …" she looked at Ron and Snape hopefully.

"No." Snape spoke with finality. She and Ron both gave each other looks of disappointment, but she left after giving him a last hug.

Left alone with Harry, Ron and Snape and got into their beds without any further conversation. Snape hated the idea of sharing a room with the red-haired boy, but it was best, if it allayed any misconceptions about the relationship between himself and Harry.

He lay awake for a long time, in spite of his earlier fatigue. He explored the sense of restoration he had felt as he held the hand of Harry Potter. So, they shared not only a physical ability to heal, but perhaps a spiritual healing as well. Although he was still troubled over what he had done at the Death Eater revel, he now felt at peace with it. The greater good would eventually be served by his being in the Inner Circle of the Dark Lord. He would no doubt have to participate in more events to keep suspicions about his loyalties at bay. He had faltered only because of the closeness that had developed with Harry. Now there was a sharper contrast between the Light and the Dark. He had been more familiar, intimately familiar, with the darkness. The side of the Light was right, he knew. But he had held himself separate from it to play his dark role all the better. Now that he was intimately acquainted with the mind of Harry, the Darkness had shown all its sordid, repulsive, evilness.

He resolved to change how he treated the Gryffindors this next year. He would be decent, and less vindictive. Maybe he would actually award points they deserved in Potions class … he shuddered at the thoughts of being … nice. Perhaps giving points would be too much. Maybe it would be enough to not take any away …

Harry woke up feeling strange, as if he had been asleep for much longer than one night. He knew that he was in his dorm bed by the sight of the crimson bed curtains. He heard snoring across the room. That was Ron. He blinked. He remembered how Ron sounded when he snored. Why should that surprise him? He had been roommates with him for 5 years.

He rolled over onto his side and saw a toy there beside him. It was a stuffed deer; a toy like a child might have. He reached out and touched it and suddenly felt all the things that this toy brought forth in him. Sitting up quickly, he held it in his hands, turning it over and over, rubbing the fuzzy material in his fingers. Down deep in his mind, he remembered a toy like this one, one that his mother and father had given to him when he was a year old. This was not that one; that had been destroyed with the house in Godric's Hollow. This was a different one … his eyes widened in surprise as the memories began to flow in his conscious mind. Snape had given this one to him, to comfort his fears when he had been afraid of the dark; when he had been like a child again. Slowly he brought the deer up to his face … "Prongs … I named you Prongs." He inhaled the scent that seemed to be part of the deer … "Severus gave you to me."

The curtains were jerked aside and Harry jumped. Ron stood there, Snape right behind him. Ron grinned. "You talked, Harry! I heard you!"

Snape was just watching him, his face guarded. Harry put a hand to his throat, feeling the scar from the knife slash. His voice felt rough and unused, like it felt when you had been ill with a sore throat and were just getting your voice back.

"Yeah. I can talk … feels strange … but okay."

Snape seemed to relax then. "You should probably go easy at first. You haven't used your vocal chords in quite a while."

Harry nodded. His eyes sought out Snape's and held them. _'Can I still talk like this too?'_

'_Yes. I hear you.'_

He indicated the toy still in his hands. _'Thanks for this. It's hard to explain what it means that you would give it to me … I never …'_

'_I know what your childhood has been like. No explanations are necessary.'_ He shifted to speaking aloud. "You should be hungry. Are you ready to leave the Tower now?"

Harry thought about that. Snape had come. He had dreamed with him again and helped Harry put all the separate puzzle pieces of his mind back together. He nodded. "I do feel pretty hungry."

When he stood up, he was alarmed at how weak he felt. Then he remembered that he had been determined not to eat until after Severus came to him. He looked at Snape a little sheepishly, but if the man understood how that childish act made Harry feel now, he had decided not to say anything. Instead, Snape held out a steadying arm. Ron came up to Harry's other side and took Harry's other arm. Together, they made their way down the stairs to the common room. Hermione was just coming down from the girl's dormitory and she ran up to Harry when she saw them.

He smiled at her. "Good to see you, 'Mione." She hugged him hard, almost toppling him over.

"Oh Harry, it's wonderful to hear you again!" She gave him a kiss on both cheeks before letting him go.

Harry swayed dangerously and Snape gripped his arm again, having let go when Hermione was hugging him. Snape barked out, "Dobby!"

The elf appeared immediately. His questioning eyes began to brim over with tears when he saw Harry smiling at him. "Hey, Dobby!" Harry greeted him.

The tears turned into wails and Dobby grabbed Harry about the knees, almost making him fall again. Snape interrupted this drama by ordering, "Dobby, go to Madame Pomfrey and tell her Harry is going to the Great Hall. He will need a Revitalizing Potion to help him through his weakness."

"Yes, Professor Snape sir, Dobby will see to it right away!" Dobby snapped his fingers and was gone with a pop.

Snape peered closely at Harry. "Do you believe that you can walk the distance to the Great Hall?"

Harry suddenly felt like he had been catered to and protected long enough. His memories of the last few months were shadowy, but he knew enough to realize that Snape and the rest had been caring for and watching over him as if he were a small child. He had been a small child, at least in his mind. Right now, he wanted to prove that he was old enough to take care of himself. They were probably getting pretty tired of him being so dependent.

With a determined shrug to loosen Snape's grip, Harry nodded. "Yes. I can walk fine."

Snape let go and looked at Ron and Hermione. "Go on ahead. We will be there shortly."

They both wanted to protest, but a glare from Snape had them hurrying away through the portrait hole. Harry looked up at Snape in question. He led Harry to the sofa and sat him down. His eyes were their usual black, but Harry could read the concern there.

"When I inquired whether you believe that you could walk the distance to the Great Hall, I expected an honest answer." Harry opened his mouth to respond, but Snape stopped him. "You feel as if you have been a burden on me and your friends. That is not the case, and I will not have you believing it."

Harry looked confused, and then he realized that Snape must have heard his thoughts after he had asked Harry about walking the distant Great Hall. He looked down at his hands and said softly, "I just want to be back to normal." Then he flung himself back into the sofa and put his hands over his face. "But that would be hard to do, since I've never _been_ normal!"

He was mortified to feel tears, hot and furious, begin to roll down his cheeks. He pressed the heels of his hands hard against his eye sockets to stem the flow. Even more embarrassingly, he felt the first shudders of a sob quake through him.

He felt hands gently grasp his forearms and pull them away and he fought them with a jerk. The hands persisted and Harry was drawn firmly up against Snape's chest. He struggled to free himself, resisting the need he felt for comfort. Snape wordlessly held him, moving one hand up to hold the back of his head, and the other encircling his back.

Harry held onto the sobs as long as he could, Snape waiting patiently. Finally, a cry of anguish escaped him and he put his own arms around his teacher. Words were not necessary for him to convey the depth of misery he felt. Sure, Voldemort hadn't come after him in a while, but couldn't he at least have had his normal crappy summer, instead of one where he reverted to childhood after his uncle's abuse got out of hand? He remembered that the Grangers had invited him to come at the end of summer break and he hadn't got to do that. He remembered being at the Burrow, but it had been as a child, too afraid to fly. He remembered needing to be hidden from prying eyes, making a den under Snape's desk. He remembered feeling the anger pouring off the Muggle teenager William, and being so afraid for Snape. He remembered having to go back to the house on Privet Drive, terrified that this time he wouldn't leave alive. He remembered back into the last of the school year, hearing music in his head from the Phantom of the Opera, feeling as much dread as he felt whenever Voldemort probed his dreams. He remembered losing Prongs in the park, needing the toy desperately, Snape yelling at him to stop when he almost ran into the street.

Snape patted his back; ran gentle fingers through his hair to massage his tense scalp muscles. "Are you so certain that nothing good happened this summer?" His voice was a deep rumble against Harry's face, where he was held against Snape's chest.

Harry was about to reply that yes, he was positive that there had been nothing good about the summer, when he remembered hot dogs in the park, playing with Billy in the park. He remembered the feeling like flying when he was on the swings. He remembered loving the books he had been given to read under the desk, no one worried about whether or not his hands were dirty. He remembered Snape assuring him that he was a good boy and not a freak, treating him like a caring adult should treat a child. He remembered the gift of Prongs, how it made him feel safe in the dark, how it smelled of Snape, a scent he now associated with safety and security. Safety and security had not been a part of his childhood before; now it was. Now there had been someone to rescue the child from the horrors of abuse, from the pangs of hunger. Then he remembered an extraordinary moment when he had made Prongs fly at the Burrow; Ron had been playing with him, and when he stopped, Harry had wanted the deer to fly some more. He had thought about it hard and it just happened; Prongs had soared around the room. As afraid of magic as he had been, this was different; he didn't need a wand to make it happen, and it was just the simple act of making his toy take wing. Wandless magic … he inhaled sharply. Could he still do that?

Snape was still attuned to his rambling thoughts. "I believe that you can. We will wait until you have regained your strength before testing it, though." He paused, then asked, "So, there was some good to come out of it?"

Harry found it easier to talk through the link, keeping his arms around Snape's middle. _'It was bad, but good at the same time … I had the chance to have some things I never had before while growing up with my aunt and uncle. They've never wanted me, let alone cared for me … you took me away from them, healed me, and then gave me what they never once did. It was like you really did want me to have what I had missed out on.'_

Snape thought about the vow he had made to Lily's memory; to give her child the protection he needed the second time around. He had done that. He thought about what Harry was feeling right now, the turmoil of emotions.

"I think that your emotions may be unsettled for a while longer. You have to assimilate what was before, and what is now. Your mind has been caught between child and teenager. There may be more moments when it all seems overwhelming."

'_Like this?'_

"Like this," Snape agreed.

At that moment, Dobby popped up beside the sofa, holding a vial of swirling blue and red liquid. "Pardon Dobby, sir, but when you are not coming to the Great Hall, Professor Dumbledore sent Dobby to bring you this. Madame Pomfrey says Harry Potter should drink it straight away."

Harry sat back. Snape took the vial from Dobby and held it up to the light, inspecting it. Only after sniffing it and giving it another measuring look did he hold it out to Harry. Harry drank it, grimacing at the combined bitter-sweet taste. He felt a wash of warmth start in his stomach and spread throughout his body.

Snape gave him a last pat on the shoulder and stood up. "_Now_, I believe you might make the distance to the Great Hall."

Harry stood, and felt much steadier on his feet now. Giving his face another wipe on his sleeve, he said, "It's good to know you'll be there if I can't."

Snape looked down at the boy in front of him. "I always will." Harry knew he spoke not just about right now, but also about what was to come.

Together, they made their way down to the Great Hall. Harry stopped several times along the way, leaning against the wall or the stair railing to rest before moving on. Snape let him set the pace, only watching to make sure he was steady before moving on.

They entered the Hall and there were many welcoming voices. Harry grinned at his friends and the other professors who gathered around him, hugging and patting him.

Ron and Hermione drew him over to the table and Harry sat down with relief. When he looked up at Snape, he saw him about to leave the Great Hall again. Harry felt a flash of panic and Snape stopped, turning to look back at him.

Through the link, Snape assured him, _'I am only going to change and make myself more presentable.'_ He fingered the several days growth of beard on his face, indicating that he intended to shave.

Harry gave him a smirk. _'I think you should keep it. It makes you look meaner.'_

Snape gave him considering look, _'Perhaps at a later time, I will think about it. For now, I prefer to be clean-shaven.'_ He waited for Harry to nod his understanding that Snape would return before he left.

Harry couldn't eat as much as he thought. He had heaped up all his favorite breakfast foods on his plate, but felt too full after eating only a small portion of it.

Madame Pomfrey noticed this and spoke to him from her place down the table. "You would do well to eat small portions several times a day, until your system is totally back to normal. I'm sure that Dobby can provide whatever suits you at times when you are not here in the Hall. I will also send up another dose of Revitalizing Potion for bedtime tonight."

Harry gave her a brief smile of gratitude. Ron and Hermione kept up an animated conversation that included Harry, while also making allowances for him to talk only as much as he felt like.

Once breakfast was over, Harry stood up with his friends, his feet much steadier. Taking a goblet of orange juice to carry with him, he said, "Let's go for a walk down to the lake."

Hermione started to protest, "Oh Harry, you shouldn't do too much –"

"The fresh air will do him good," Snape's deep voice interrupted. He had re-entered the Hall and was taking a late seat beside Dumbledore. He looked like he had showered, shaved and changed in the time he had been gone. Harry became aware of just how haggard looking the man had been before.

Harry looked at the black eyes, but for the moment, they were unreadable. After a brief return stare, Snape turned to Dumbledore and began a low conversation, effectively dismissing Harry and the others. Harry sighed and turned to his friends. "Let's go."

Harry noticed that the other teachers had sat back down around Snape and Dumbledore as the Trio walked out. _'What's all that about?'_ he wondered.

'_Nothing that concerns you. Take your walk. Allow Miss Granger to have a say when you appear to be tiring. If you cannot get back to the dormitory, call for me or Dobby.'_

Harry came to a stop. _'I'll have to watch what I think about, won't I?'_

'_Only if what you are thinking involves rule-breaking or insults against a teacher. Although I suspect that you will learn to Occlude me quickly enough, now that you are yourself again. The child in you had no trouble shutting me out when it suited.'_

Harry grinned and walked on out the doors of the castle and into the sunshine.


	41. Chapter 42

**Chapter 42: One More Time with Muggles**

Over the next few days, Harry readjusted to having all his normal memories, plus the new ones from the summer. He was prone to sweeping highs and deep lows of emotion; one minute laughing at a joke Ron told, and the next barely able to keep himself together before collapsing into his bed and drawing the curtain tight shut. Ron and Hermione learned to leave him alone to work it out after getting their heads nearly bitten off when Harry switched into a rage.

Harry would call out to Snape to hear his voice, and that seemed to settle him. Sometimes, just curling up and hugging Prongs, safe behind the bed curtains, was all he needed. He kept the stuffed animal under his pillow, alternately feeling foolish for needing it, and then overwhelmingly glad he had it.

He began to spend hours catching up on his summer homework. He had done nothing of it in the first part of the summer; Vernon Dursley had locked away all his school things when he had taken him home that first day.

Ron chastised him at first. "They won't expect you to have done it, Harry. They all know what you went through."

Harry had looked up at his friend from where he sat on the floor with his books and parchment spread around. "I _need_ to do it. I need to know that I can." Ron had left him alone about it after that.

Hermione sat down and pulled one of his essays to look it over and had been surprised. "This is very well done of you, Harry. You really have a good grasp of this." She was looking over his Potions essay and Ron sat down beside her, looking over her shoulder.

"Did Professor Snape help you with it?" he asked.

Harry shook his head. "When I couldn't talk, I read a lot. At first I read stories and stuff. Then it got boring and I just started to pick up text books to read. I remember reading out of a seventh-year text Severus had."

Hermione's eyebrows shot up. "You understood seventh-year material?" There was amazement and admiration in her voice.

Harry shrugged. "It doesn't seem so hard now." He bent his head back over the Charms essay he was working on.

They tried to get him up at supper time, but he refused to leave until the essay was completed. Hermione had just made up her mind to go on and tell Snape what was happening, when Harry sat back, holding the essay out to her. "There. Another one done. Now all that's left is History of Magic. That one I don't think will be as easy to do."

Hermione glanced over the Charms essay enough to see that this one was done as well as the one she had done, if not better. She felt a small twinge of jealousy that Harry hadn't needed her help in doing it, like both he and Ron always had. Then she gave herself a mental shake. Harry didn't need her to be anything more than a friend, and that should be enough. If he needed her help in the future, she would still happily give it.

They walked into the Great Hall to see that Snape had already got up and was headed for the door to see what was keeping them. He stopped and gave Harry a questioning look.

Harry shrugged. "I was finishing my Charms essay. Sorry to be late."

Professor Flitwick gave a surprised squeak. "You needn't do the summer assignment, Mr. Potter. After all, I know you didn't really have the time or means to do it."

Hermione spoke up, "It seems that Harry is quite capable of doing the assignments, Professor. I looked at the essay and it's done very well."

"Well, with your help, I'm sure it is, my dear," he squeaked again.

"That's just it, sir. I haven't helped him at all, and he's done all the assignments except History."

The other professors looked around at each other. The ones who were Harry's teachers couldn't wait to see what he had done. Snape regarded Harry closely for a few moments before sitting back down.

Dumbledore was smiling benevolently at the three of them. "It appears that our little surprise will be a reward for work well done then."

The Trio looked at him curiously. He stroked his long white beard and said, "I understand that Harry had been invited to spend some more time at the Granger's before school started again."

Hermione looked at Ron and Harry. "Yes, sir. My parents had planned to take us all to the movies. We had talked about them when we were helping Professor Snape, but then we ran out of time. They were going to take us after we got back from our trip, but then …" Her voice drifted off as they all recalled why that hadn't happened.

Dumbledore smiled at her. "Professor Snape has been in contact with your parents. They wish to fulfill their promise to Harry and to you too, Mr. Weasley. You will be traveling to your home by Portkey tonight, and seeing the – movie. That will allow you all to ride the Express back to Hogwarts. The timing couldn't be better."

Harry's eyes flew to Snape's. _'You're going, aren't you?'_

'_I still have much to do before term begins. I had not planned to.'_

'_Do I have to go?'_

Snape ignored the curious looks they were getting. They should all be used to them having these silent conversations by now. _'Are you that apprehensive?'_

Harry looked down at his plate. _'I guess not … I just thought that it would be nice to spend more time like that with you. After school starts, we won't be able to, will we? And I thought maybe we could go back to that park … just us …'_

Snape appeared to be considering what Harry had said. There was more to it than what Harry was saying. He sat back and spoke aloud, "Headmaster, I believe I will go along, after all. I will Portkey back afterwards."

Ron looked miffed, but had the necessary restraint to keep from voicing his displeasure. Hermione just looked delighted and clapped her hands together.

Harry was relieved by Snape's decision, though there was a part of him that wondered why he couldn't feel excited about the prospect of this kind of outing without Snape. He shook off the worry, determined that he would enjoy himself.

They finished dinner and then went to their dorms to pack small bags. They would need their school robes to change into on the train, as well as a few changes of clothes. They met Snape in Dumbledore's office, where he held the Portkey.

Once they arrived at the Granger's, there were welcoming hugs and handshakes all around. Martin looked at Snape in question, having not expected him, but shook the professor's hand warmly.

"Severus, I'm glad you came along. Perhaps we might fit in another game of chess while you're here."

Ellen took Harry by the shoulders and looked at him closely. "We know a little bit of what you've been through, Harry. If we have anything to say about it, you'll never go back to those horrible people again on your holidays." She pulled Harry into a warm embrace.

Harry stiffened at first, startled by her words and the caring in her hug. Then he let himself relax, enjoying the contact, and the feeling of belonging.

It was only a short drive to the movie theatre, where Martin bought them all buttered popcorn and sodas. They sat in the seats that were so similar to those they sat in when they had been at the play. Harry had a hard time settling back; only Snape being at his side made it possible. Once the movie began and he was eating the popcorn, he forgot about the similarities. This was much more relaxed and fun.

The movie was an animated one and they all enjoyed the antics of the computer generated characters, understanding most of the Muggle humor. Harry laughed with the others after it was over, and they discussed their favorite parts. Snape even had an uncharacteristically amused expression on his face.

Back at the house, they stayed up late; the men playing chess while the others played a game of dominoes. Harry felt more like his old self as they just sat around, enjoying the company and the ice cream floats that Ellen made for everyone.

At bedtime, Snape took the guest room while the boys made themselves pallets on the living room floor. Ron was soon snoring loudly while Harry lay awake.

He thought that it must be the excitement of the day that kept him from sleeping, but he soon realized that he was avoiding sleep for another reason. A tickle of dread had started at the back of his neck. He had a feeling that this sleep would not be restful …

_The figures in black robes and white masks stood around the living room, surrounding two people kneeling in the floor. In Martin's easy chair, Voldemort sat, his attention fixed on them. He spoke with a deadly quiet voice, emphasis on the hissing of the s sounds._

"_Muggles are ssuch trusting petss, never believing the worst in anyone. You sshouldn't have trusted him. Now you will pay for it with your lives. Of coursse, not before we show you just what power we are capable of. Just think, one day, your Mudblood daughter may even come begging to join my rankss, eager to know the glory of my domination."_

_He gave a nod to one of the masked men and they dragged Martin away into the other room, while Ellen screamed his name hoarsely. _

_Voldemort looked down at her a parody of sadness on his face. "I'll spare him the agony of an overly long death if you will but tell me who the traitor is. Who is the one who brings my enemy to your house?"_

_Ellen made a visible effort to stop her crying, but could not stop herself from the violent trembling that had overtaken her. In a shaking voice, she whispered, "No one is a traitor who stands up to fight you. We may not understand everything about your world, but we know enough that the good people don't want your domination. They will defeat you."_

_One of the masked Death Eaters caught her up and slammed a fist into her jaw. "Do not dare to speak to our Lord that way, you Muggle b!" He let her go to sprawl on the floor weeping, blood running freely from her mouth._

_In the other room, Martin was screaming his wife's name …_

'_No-o-o-o!'_

Harry woke up, coming to his feet and staring around wildly in the dark. A hand touched his shoulder and he whipped around, throwing his hands out in front of him to repel whoever was near. A crash and the breaking of glass brought everyone in the house to the living room. The lights came on and Harry was standing with his hands still out, eyes huge and terrified. Snape was against the remains of the lamp table across the room. The lamp and glass from framed pictures lay shattered across the floor.

Snape slowly stood, a grimace of pain on his face quickly hidden. He raised a hand and reached out to Harry. _'Harry, wake up now. It's alright. It was only a dream.'_

Harry stared with unfocused eyes and then he blinked. Awareness of the moment returned and he was looking around the room at all of them standing there. He felt relief flooding him to see Martin and Ellen standing there beside Hermione. They were alright.

Ellen was the first to speak, "What happened? No, wait, no one move, there's glass everywhere. Hermione, go get the broom and dustpan, Martin, get some shoes for everyone so they won't cut their feet."

Harry stood silent, staring at the floor. Snape ignored Ellen's command and moved to his side. Through the link he spoke to Harry again, _'It was a dream. It was not real.'_

'_Did you see?' _Harry asked shakily.

'_Only the last. It was the Dark Lord.'_

'_Yeah. Voldemort was here, in this house.'_

'_A nightmare, then.'_

'_Worse.'_ Harry looked up at him then, searching his eyes. _'I think it was what will happen.'_

Snape knew better than to deny that Harry could have seen the future. Six months ago, he wouldn't have said this kind of link was possible, or the shared ability for them to heal the other. _'You believe it was a premonition?'_

Harry nodded, his face suddenly green as the vision of Ellen's bleeding face reared up in his mind. Snape conjured a large bucket just as Harry's stomach lost its contents. He grabbed the bucket gratefully, hanging onto it as he heaved some more. Snape held it steady with one hand while he drew his wand with the other.

Without asking if anyone minded, he gave the wand a wave over the broken glass and table. "_Reparo,_" he muttered. Pieces of wood and glass righted themselves, everything back in place in seconds.

Ellen stood there in her housecoat, broom and dust pan in hand, looking at the now clean floor. She looked at Snape in awe. "Thanks, I guess …" was all she could manage. While they knew that their daughter was a witch, being underage had always prevented her from showing them any spell examples while she was home. They had seen Snape and the Trio materialize in their house aided by a Portkey. But Snape had never offered to do magic, nor had they asked, thinking it might be rude. But the ease with which he made the repairs astounded her.

Snape blew a deep sigh, turning part of his attention back to Harry. Over his shoulder, he said to Martin and Ellen, "Forgive me. I should have asked if you wanted it repaired by magic."

Martin smiled. "Of course it's alright. That was brilliant! I thought we might never see actual magic being done until Hermione was seventeen. Thanks!"

Ellen put the broom down and came to Harry. "Shall I get him a cool cloth?"

Harry shook his head and wiped his mouth with a shaking hand. "I'll just wash up …" He indicated the bucket and looked at Snape. "Thanks for that." He walked quickly out of the room. Snape looked down at the bucket and with a flick of his wrist, it vanished.

Snape looked around at them all. Hermione spoke first. "It was a nightmare about Voldemort, wasn't it?" He gave her a curt nod.

Ron was looking at the now repaired table, where Harry had been standing, and the doorway. Looking back at Snape, he asked, "How did you get way over there, if you came in that door from the guest room?"

Snape drew himself up, keeping another wince of discomfort to himself. "I heard Harry, and when I came in, I was disoriented in the dark. I knocked the table over."

"But if you were way over here, you had to pass Harry to knock the table over, and you were on the floor –"

Snape threw him a hard stare. "I knocked the table over, Mr. Weasley."

Ron looked like he would argue more but the look Snape was giving him forced him to rethink that. Hermione bit her lip, her eyes narrowed, as she too was thinking about how things looked.

Harry came back in then. He looked at Martin and Ellen. "I'm sorry I disturbed everyone. If I can replace anything that was damaged –"

Ellen hugged him quickly. "Oh no, dear. Severus has repaired it all. It's all taken care of. No harm done, if you're alright too."

Harry nodded against her shoulder, trying not to think of her as he saw her in the dream.

After a glass of warm milk, Harry said he was ready to go back to sleep. Everyone went back to their own beds, and the lights were out once more. After he heard Ron snoring again, Harry sat up on his pallet with a sigh. He leaned back against the sofa, his head resting on the seat cushions. In reality, he knew sleep would not come again on this night. He just didn't want everyone else to lose any more of their sleep because of it.

A shadow in the doorway caught his attention. He focused in the dark and knew it was s

Snape. A silent beckoning of his hand and Harry got up, following him into the kitchen and out the back door. Snape cast silencing charms all around them as they sat down in the lounge chairs on the patio.

Harry looked up at the stars overhead. Funny how they didn't seem as bright here as they were from the Astronomy Tower.

Snape spoke through the link, in spite of the silencing charms. _'Do you wish to talk about it?'_

'_No. If I talk about it, it might give it the power to come true.'_

'_That's very superstitious. Talking about your fears may also take away their power, much like your insistence on calling the Dark Lord by his name.'_

Harry sighed in resignation_. 'Voldemort and a band of Death Eaters were here. They had Mr. and Mrs. Granger in the living room. He was wanting them to say who the traitor was who brought his enemy to this house. Mrs. Granger told him that no one was a traitor who stood up to him. One of the Death Eaters hit her with his fist and blood was everywhere. They had taken Mr. Granger to the kitchen. I don't know what they were doing, but he was screaming, and then she was screaming –'_

Snape reached over and gripped Harry's hand. Harry was shaking again, and he conjured a blanket, settling it over him. Harry turned his hand over until he could intertwine his fingers with Snape's.

They sat in silence for awhile before Snape asked, _'Did it help to tell about it?'_

'_No, not really.'_

'_Then we won't speak of it again. This is not a dream that you should share with Miss Granger nor Mr. Weasley.'_

'_You think?'_ Harry asked sarcastically.

Snape allowed the silence to draw out again before saying, _'There is another matter to discuss.'_

'_What would that be? My poor manners as a guest, tossing my cookies in the living room like that?'_

'_Your wandless magic.'_

Harry had not expected that answer and he turned his head sharply. Snape continued. _'When I came into the living room, you were standing, but still asleep. I reached out and touched you and you repelled me across the room, using only your hands.'_

Harry shook his head. _'But I can't do that.'_

'_You've done it before, remember, with Prongs.'_

'_Maybe I just pushed you or something.'_

'_A person of your size could not have sent me flying by a mere push. Your hands never actually touched me. It was your magic that shoved me, and I have the broken rib to prove it.'_

'_I – I broke your rib? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to –'_

Snape squeezed his fingers. _'I'm fine. I only mention it because it points to the strength of your power.'_

Harry stared at him. _'Why does all this shite happen to me?'_

Snape ignored the language, and said firmly, _'This is not a bad thing, Harry. To defeat the Dark Lord, you will have to develop powers that can surpass his. He does wandless magic. If you are to be his equal, you can do no less.'_

'_I'll never be his equal.'_ Harry pulled his hand away and drew the blanket around himself like a cocoon.

'_You are not, at the moment. You have much to learn. That's why it is imperative to keep you safe. You need more time to become the wizard that will vanquish him forever.'_

Harry looked back up at the stars. _'I wish I was as sure about it as everyone else is. I'm just a kid who attracts trouble. Look at me … how can someone like me ever become that wizard?'_

Snape remembered all the times he had thought Harry Potter a self-important, arrogant prat, wondering again how he could have ever believed that. He sat up on the edge of his lounger and leaned towards Harry. _'You will. You are surrounded by witches and wizards who are invested in helping you get there.'_

'_And I feel like they are all headed for one big let down.'_ He closed his eyes, feeling like he just needed to rest them for a few minutes. The silence grew and Snape knew Harry slept again. He made sure the blanket was tucked in around him and then settled himself back onto his lounge chair. Conjuring another blanket, he closed his own eyes. He tried not to think about who the men behind the Death Eater masks in Harry's dream had been.


	42. Chapter 43

**Chapter 43: Saying Goodbye**

Harry was awake before anyone else and watched as the daylight grew with the dawn. Snape had removed the silencing charms and he could hear the birds begin to sing. It all seemed so simple and peaceful, not at all the horror that had been his dream.

Snape watched Harry through lowered lashes, not wanting him to know that he was awake yet. He saw the face of a boy, etched with lines of worry well before his time. This boy had seen too much of the dark side of life and not enough of the good. It had aged him past what he should rightfully be. How was it possible that he could be the one to aid him in his journey to becoming the Wizard of the Light? As much as he had tried to reassure Harry, he felt the same way when it came to believing that this would all be right in the end; that somehow the Dark Lord would be destroyed. Everyone was headed for the biggest letdown of all. It seemed like fate would have put that possibility into a much more believable figure than this thin, abused boy, and would have put the trust of being a proper mentor into a man who did not have the dark history that dogged Snape's heels.

The back door opened and Ellen came out onto the patio. Harry sat up, and Snape slowly made his body obey the same order. His side where he had hit the table was throbbing this morning. Without his robes, he was without any of the simple potions he kept handy. He should have let Harry heal him, but he hadn't thought of it. He had been much more concerned with Harry understanding the power that he had. Maybe later…

Ellen smiled down at them. "Enjoying the sunrise?"

Harry nodded and smiled. Snape stood up and said, "One does not often get the opportunity to sleep under the stars."

"Breakfast will be ready soon. Do you have plans for today, or are you at our mercy?" Ellen asked cheerfully.

Snape said, "Harry and I will be taking care of some loose ends for part of the day. I will be going back to Hogwarts this evening."

"Well, then, I'll try to keep Hermione and Ron busy this morning. I'll call you when breakfast is ready." She walked back into the house.

Harry looked up at Snape and he saw the worry clouding the green eyes. "What if it was a premonition? Shouldn't I tell them, so they could go some place safe?"

Snape shook his head. "You cannot make yourself responsible for the safety of everyone. Until you are ready, there is nothing you can do to protect them."

"But there is! I can warn them!" Snape saw the old determination showing through and felt glad that Harry still had it after all that had happened. At the same time, there was a need to instill caution in him and temper the Gryffindor foolhardiness.

"Would you spend every day telling everyone your dreams, giving them warnings concerning things that may or may not happen? Would you have them see you as another Trelawney?" He glared at Harry. "Would that help your cause, give you what you need to know to defeat the Dark Lord?"

Harry looked at his feet and shook his head. Then softly he said, "Can't I at least help those who are close to me; those like the Grangers who have been so nice? Can't I give back instead of always taking?"

Snape put a hand on his shoulder, gripping it firmly. "We do not know whether or not your dream was in fact a premonition, or merely a fear taking the form of a nightmare." He felt the misery Harry was feeling right now and loosened his grip, making it into more of a reassuring squeeze. "If it becomes clear that you are having accurate premonitions, we will give warnings to those they concern if we can. Can you accept that compromise?"

Harry looked up at him, meeting his eyes to measure the honesty in the words. Snape returned his stare levelly, letting him see that he meant it, emphasizing the words, _'If we can.'_ Harry didn't like how that sounded, as if they might not give warnings should Snape decide it wasn't wise. But he nodded, his mouth in a tight line.

Ron and Hermione stepped out onto the patio then, carrying plates. "Mum said it was too nice a morning to eat inside, you two have the right idea about enjoying it." Hermione handed them their plates and took hers from Ron as they sat at the patio table.

She gave Harry a worried look. "You alright this morning, Harry?" He gave her a small smile and a nod.

Ron asked, "What are we doing today? We have to make it good, you know. Tomorrow we get on the train and who knows how long it will be before we can do this again." He looked at Hermione expectantly.

Snape dabbed his mouth with a napkin and said, "Harry and I will be seeing to some things this morning. I will be returning to Hogwarts shortly thereafter. Perhaps you could make your big plans for later this afternoon?"

Hermione looked curious, but didn't ask what they would be doing. She nodded in agreement. "Ron and I will put something together. Maybe we'll go to another movie."

Ron nodded enthusiastically, talking around a mouthful of eggs. "Yeah, that sounds good. Hurry back, Harry, so we can get started."

Harry gave Snape a questioning look. _'Where are we going?'_

'_You'll see.'_

They finished their breakfast with Hermione making suggestions about what they might do and Ron proclaiming he wanted to do it all.

Snape stood up when Harry pushed his plate away. "We will be Apparating. Are you ready?"

Harry joined him at the edge of the patio, where Snape put an arm around his shoulder. With a soft crack, they were gone.

They were hidden in some trees and when they stepped out, Harry recognized the park that they had gone to every day for lunch during the summer. With a sigh, he watched children playing in the early sun, their laughter ringing out across the way.

Snape slowly walked the perimeter and Harry followed, until he sat down on the bench they usually occupied. Harry had a faraway look as he continued to observe. Snape said, "You could give it another go, if you wish."

Harry was silent for a time then spoke softly, "I had never been to the park and allowed to have fun before you brought me here. I remember going with Dudley and my aunt, but when we got there, he would make things miserable and she would just let him do it."

Snape knew much of what Harry was talking about from all the dreams and memories that had been shared, but he knew that Harry needed to give words to them; to vent it.

"Once, when I got on the swings, Dudley ran up and pushed me out. He had hold of the chain and made the swing hit me in the face. My nose was all bloody and Aunt Petunia yelled at me for getting my clothes ruined with it." His voice was matter of fact, recounting an episode that was one of many; so many that they had melded together and this one stood out to be an example.

A little boy appeared in front of their bench then, breaking Harry out of the memories. "Hey, Billy." Harry smiled.

"You talked!" Billy took off down the sidewalk, yelling, "Hey, Mum, Harry talked! He can talk now!" He came back holding the hand of his mother who was smiling down at them. Billy let go of her and grabbed Harry's hand. "Come on, let's go play!"

Harry glanced at Snape, and seeing the slight inclination of his head, he jumped up and ran after the little boy toward the swings. Billy's mother took the vacated spot Harry had been in and watched them for a bit before speaking.

"He's recovered from his ordeal then?"

"He's still healing. His ordeal will no doubt leave life-long scars."

"Billy has been missing him. He looks for you every day."

"This will be the last day we will be able to come here."

She looked over at Snape then, silently questioning his statement. He chose his words carefully. "I was teaching at the school for the summer term. We will be going back to our own now."

She looked as if she wanted to ask more, but Snape gave her no encouraging indications to do so. She settled for commenting, "He will be missed. There's something about him … normally, I wouldn't have allowed Billy to play with a kid Harry's age. They can be so rough. But Harry has a gentle spirit, doesn't he? He just radiates a goodness …"

Snape looked at her, eyes narrowed as he saw her contemplative expression. She shook herself and gave a little laugh. "Listen to me. I don't know what I'm on about. What I mean is, it seems like most who have been through whatever he has would be made harder, selfish even, and eager to take it out on others. Harry is just … Harry." She looked at Snape with a grin. "I sound foolish, don't I?"

He looked back out at the two boys. Harry was pushing Billy in the swings so that he rose higher and higher than the smaller boy would have been able to manage on his own. They were both laughing. He sensed again the purity of the joy that Harry was feeling, like that first day when he was the one soaring on the swing. He answered Billy's mother, "No, you do not. He is a remarkable young man by anyone's measure. He will miss this, as well."

They watched as the boys switched places, with Billy trying to boost Harry as high as Harry had pushed him. Harry was giving him help so that it seemed that Billy was, in fact, able to give Harry the height he had achieved.

Eventually, Harry looked over at Snape. _'I'm not coming back here, am I?'_

'_This is not our world.'_

'_It should have been my world when I was growing up.'_

'_Yes,'_ Snape agreed. '_It should have been.'_

Harry looked at Snape for a long time, thinking. Then he said, his voice filled with emotion, _'Thank you for giving it to me now.'_

He blinked hard, and then smiled at Billy when the child took him by the hand, dragging him across the playground to the slide.

Snape swallowed hard against the emotion welling up inside him. He shifted, wincing as his broken rib rubbed the wrong way. After a while, the boys ran back to the bench.

"Hey, mum, can Harry and me get some ice cream? The ice cream cart is open now. Can we?" Billy bounced up and down on his toes as he begged his mother. She smiled and opened her handbag. After handing them some change, they ran off toward the ice cream cart.

Snape watched as they walked slowly down the sidewalk, eating the dripping cones and talking. They sat down on the grass and Snape could see that Harry was talking while Billy was listening. The little boy shook his head and Harry leaned forward, putting a hand on his shoulder. They finished their treats and walked back to the bench where Snape and Billy's mother sat waiting.

Harry turned to Billy and knelt down. "You've been my best friend, Billy. I'll miss you."

Billy asked in a trembling voice, "Are you sure you can't come back?"

"Maybe sometime I will. But it won't be for a long time." Harry put his hand on the small boy's shoulder again.

Billy leaned forward and hugged him, Harry hugging him back. "I'll miss you, too, Harry. You'll always be my friend. Even if you're gone for a long time."

Harry stood up and looked at Snape. _'Let's go, while I still can.'_

Snape stood up and looked at Billy's mother and then at Billy. "You have been most kind this summer. Thank you for being Harry's friend."

They turned and walked away from the two Muggles, Harry faltering when he heard the sniffles behind him. Snape put a hand on his elbow to keep him moving away and they made their way into the cover of the trees.

Once they had made sure they were unseen, Snape Apparated them away.

Harry looked up to see that were just outside the apparition boundary at Hogwarts. He looked at Snape in question. "I thought I was riding the Express back with Ron and Hermione."

"You shall." He regarded Harry closely for a moment, in a considering way. "I thought you might like to fly before term started."

Harry grinned. "You think I can?"

"I know that you want to. It should be enough. Then you will see that the magic is inside you, waiting for you to take control of it again." Snape gazed at him levelly, and then began walking onto Hogwarts grounds. He bypassed the castle and headed directly to the Quidditch pitch. Harry walked beside him, thinking about what he had said. He knew and believed now that he was a wizard. He had moved past the deeply ingrained ideas about it making him a freak like his uncle had said so many times. But besides the little bit of wandless magic with Prongs, and the results from the dream last night –

"Merlin! Your ribs! You said they were broken, let me see –"

"I can heal them with a few potions once I get you back to the Granger's later."

They had reached the locker room and Snape opened the door of the shed where school brooms were kept. He pulled out one that was in decent shape and handed it to Harry. Harry took it and then walked over to the bench.

"Sit down and let me see your ribs." He eyed Snape with calm determination until the man complied. Harry sat down next to him and waited until Snape pulled his shirt aside, revealing the nasty purpling flesh. Harry reached out a tentative hand and laid it flat against the bruise, closing his eyes. Snape hissed at the pain upon first contact, then relaxed as the healing energy began to work. He felt the bones knitting themselves back into proper position.

After a few minutes the energy began to ebb and Harry felt like he had done what he could for the moment. He stood up, grabbing the broom.

"Get yourself a broom. I want you to fly with me."

He walked out to the pitch, and waited until Snape came out holding a broom and a ball that was used as a practice bludger. In his head, Snape spoke, _'Do not get used to telling me what to do. I must remind you that once term begins, you will be a student, and I will be your teacher.'_

'_Yeah, I know. That's why I want to do this. I'm afraid that things will go back to the old ways and we will lose what we've had. I don't want that to happen, but I get that we can't be together like we have been. Images to keep up and all that. We're not exactly what people would expect in the way of- friends.'_

Snape wanted to reassure him that they would still be friends, but in truth, he had not yet figured a way for that to happen while school was in session. For them to be anything other than what they had always been would be to invite more suspicions from those who already had enough to chew on. But he could not let it be as if nothing had happened this summer. He would have to think of something.

He threw the ball directly at Harry without warning. Harry threw out a hand and the ball veered away, soaring over the field before coming to a bouncing stop. Harry looked at him in surprise, but didn't say anything.

Mounting his broom, he hesitated and then kicked off. It was as if he had never been away from it. He flew high over the pitch, wheeling and looping through the air. Snape watched him with satisfaction before mounting his own broom. Harry slowed down to hover as he waited for Snape to join him in the air.

"This feels brilliant, Severus!" He was flushed with excitement at being airborne.

Snape pointed to the ball. "Summon it."

Harry felt in his pocket for his wand before realizing that he didn't have it. Snape said, "You don't need your wand. Try it."

Harry held out a hand to the ball on the ground. Before he could remember the summoning charm, the ball was flying at him. He caught it and gaped. "I didn't even say the charm, I just thought about what I wanted it to do."

Snape gave him a smirk. "Throw it at me."

Harry considered this for a brief moment before flinging his hand out and letting the ball head towards its target. Snape put out his own hand and repelled the ball back to Harry, who responded in kind, in spite of his surprise that Snape could do it wandlessly as well. They went on that way, repelling the ball back and forth until Snape caught it and held it.

Harry was flying loops again, wishing he had his Firebolt out here; remembering how much better it handled than this school broom. Snape let the ball drop to the ground and flew until he was beside Harry.

"You did well with that."

"Do you think that I can do it with any spell?"

"Time will tell. My strong suggestion is this, however: use your wand whenever you are around others. Wandless magic is not common. Consider how being a Parseltongue makes you feel."

Harry frowned. "It makes me uncomfortable when people look at me like I'm evil, just because I can talk to snakes."

"They may very well jump to the same conclusion with this ability when you exhibit it."

"Hermione and the Weasleys know about it."

"They will keep it quiet if you wish it. Just tell them."

They flew around the pitch in silence for a while; Harry periodically soaring up rapidly and then making a sharp turn down until he banked and came up beside Snape again.

"You never said how we will handle things after term starts. Can I still talk to you?"

"I would ask that you use discretion. I would also ask that you be aware that my manner toward you will change around others, but it does not mean that what I have told you is no longer true."

"You mean about being my friend."

"That, and more. I believe we have made progress towards being more than friends. The Muggle court did award custody of you to me."

Harry snapped his head around to look at Snape. "I had forgotten that. You are my guardian now, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"Does that mean you won't take points from me in Potions anymore?" Harry asked hopefully.

"I cannot promise that. You should expect that deviations from rules and poor behavior will still result in whatever punishment is appropriate."

"But not yet? Not until school starts?"

"I suppose not. Why do you ask?"

Harry grinned. "Because I want to see if the black bat from the dungeons of hell can keep up with me!" He took off at high speed around the pitch. Snape stared after him, eyes narrowed.

'_You are still an insolent brat, you realize.' _He took off after him. They had a few more hours of summer left, after all.

**The End**

_**PostScript A/N:** Thank you to everyone who has read this whole story. You have kept me inspired to continue, and your thoughtful comments and reviews encouraged me when I needed it most! _

_A very special thank you to **logicalquirk** for being my beta for the last half of the story! You've been wonderful!_

_I owe thanks to **Somagliana**, too, my beta for the first half of the story. She made it easy for me to learn to accept corrections in my work!_

_Just in case it's not stated enough, I own nothing in the world of Harry Potter. It all belongs to the incomparable JK Rowling. I only borrow the characters to give words to my imagination!_

_The sequel to The First Prophecy will be titled Primoris Oraculum Duo. This loosely means First Prophecy Two. (I am certainly not a Latin expert and I'm just trying for something that looks and sounds good!)_


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